IMAGE  EVALUATION 
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Photographic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  Nr    14580 

(716)  872-4503 


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CIHM/ICMH 
Microfiche 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 

1980 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes/Notes  techniques  et  bibliographiques 


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y 


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indiqud  ci-dessous. 
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32.x 


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la  dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 

Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparaitra  sur  la 
derni^re  image  de  chaque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbole  — ►  signifie  "A  SUIVRE  ",  le 
symbole  V  signifie  "FIN". 

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filmds  6  des  taux  de  reduction  diff^rents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  dtre 
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de  Tangle  sup^rieur  gauche,  de  aauche  h  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  -lombre 
d'images  n^cessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  mdthode. 


32.x 


1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

HAPHAZARD  PERSONALITIES- 


oiii'sriA'  oir 


NOTED  AMERICANS 


BY 


CPIARLES   LANMAN 

ACTHOK    0,     THK     PKIVATE     I.IK«     oi.     I^ANIBI,    WKBBTER.     BTC. 


BOSTON 
LEE  AND   SIIEPARD,    PUBLISHERS 

NEW    YOKK  . 

CHARLES   T.    DILLINGHAM 

1886 


COPYllIGIlT,   1885, 

LEK    AND    SIIEPARDc 


ALL  KIOHTt)   KE8EUVED. 


Printed  ami  A7« ctinlmwil  1,y 
ALFi;i;i)     MUDOK     AND     BON, 

21  Franklin  St.,  Bostou. 


PEEFACE. 


Dmima  my  protracted  experiences  as  a  merchant's  clerk 
ill  Ntw  York,  a  newspaper  man,  an  author  and  artist,  and 
an  official,  in  Washington,  it  has  been  my  fortune  to  make 
muoy  good  friends  among  the  noted  men  of  the  time,  and  it 
i«  ^)  u  portion  of  these  that  I  have  devoted  this  volume. 
My  ci.ject  has  not  been  to  write  biographies,  but  merely  to 
give-  such  interesting  revelations  of  character  as  have  come 
imdor  my  own  personal  observation.     In  doing  this,  I  have 
been  obliged,  occasionally,  to  be  a  little  autobiographic  in  my 
methods;   but  there  seemed  to  be  no  alternative,  and  the 
reader  must  not  question  my  sense  of  delicacy.     The  per- 
sonal records  in  my  possession  have  by  no  means  been  ex- 
hausted  in  the  following  pages,  and  I  cannot  but  hope  that 
when  the  proper  time  arrives,  some  additional  recollections 
wdl  see  the  light,  and  be  as  warmly  welcomed  by  the  public 
as  my  literary  efforts  have  always  been  in  the  days  that  are 
no  more. 


COT^TET^TS. 


JoMicPFi  Henry      .... 

IIknhy  W.  Longfkllow 

.ToHKPii  (iAMvs  AM>  William  W.  Skai 

Washinoton  lin  in(j     . 

Gkoikjh  Pkhkins  Mahsu 

William  C.  Bkyant 

IIknky  Clay  .... 

JjDwaim)  Kvkrett 

Pa  UK  Bkn-jamin     .... 

HOICAGK  GkKKLKY  .... 

Pktbu  Fouck         .... 

William  S.  Mount 

.Tamks  Brooks        .... 

Lewis  Cass    ..... 

Manton  Eastbitrn 

Louis  Lkgrand  Noble 

William  B.  Sprague    . 

William  Jkrdan  and  Washinqton  Ii 

John  IIowaim>  Payne  . 

EmvAHi)  N.  Kirk  .... 

Elisiia  Kknt  Kane 

George  W.  Betiiune    . 

Emanuel  Leutze  .... 

Charles  Heavysege    . 

Lafayette  S.  Foster  . 

Charles  Dickens  and  Washington  I 

William  A.  Buckingham     . 

JoHxF.  T.  Crampton  . 

Samuel  Tyler      .... 

WiNFiELD  Scott   .        .        ',        . 

Charles,  Mackay  .        .        .        . 

Clark  Mills  ....        * 

Charles  P.  McIlvaine 

Martin  F.  Tupper 

Alexander  IL  Stephens     .        '. 

Henry  R.  Schoolcraft       '. 

George  B.  McClellan 

John  Trumbull   .        .        .        ' 


)N 


vino 


RVIN 


Paob 

7 

27 

41 

76 
91 

109 
120 
130 
140 

15.-, 

160 

168 

180 

184 

201 

206 

226 

228 

231 

238 

243 

2:.o 

254 
259 
277 
282 
288 
290 
304 
316 
320 
329 
334 
339 
342 
365 
370 
379 


HAPHAZARD  PERSONALITIES. 


JOSEPII   TTENRY. 

My  acquaintance  with  iliis  eminent  man  ])egan  in  1818, 
and  war,  one  of  tlie  silken  threads  in  tlie  warp  of  my  life. 
AVilh  him  and  liis  family  I  boarded  for  a  few  months  in 
the  honse  of  Ilenrv  U.  Schoolcraft  in  Wa8hinL''ton.  He 
seemed,  from  the  first,  to  take  an  interest  in  inv  welfare  : 
and  while  he  honored  me  with  his  advice  on  matters  con- 
nected with  my  duties  as  a  writer  for  the  National  Litel- 
Itgcticer,  his  wife  treated  me  with  the  greatest  kindness, 
so  that  my  affection  for  the  twain  was  most  sincere. 

This  is  not  the  place,  even  if  the  ability  were  mine,  to 
connnent  upon  his  splendid  career  as  a  'nan  of  science, 
nor  do  I  propose  to  repeat  the  record  of  his  life  Avhich  I 
prepared  for  my  "Biographical  Annals";  one  or  two 
incidents,  however,  coiniected  with  his  boyhood,  which 
were  narrated  to  me  by  himself,  may  with  propriety  be 
mentioned  here,  for  the  puri)ose  of  showing  his  introduc- 
tion to  the  worlds  of  literatuj-e  and  science. 

Having  lost  his  father,  William  Henry,  when  a  mere 
child,  he  was  early  sent  to  live  with  his  grandmother,  in 
the  village  of  Galway,  Saratoga  County,  N.  Y.  When  in 
his  tenth  year,  while  trying  to  capture  a  pet  ral)bit,  he 
followed  the  animal  into  one  of  the  air-holes  under  the 
village  church  ;  prowling  about  on  his  hand  and  knees,  he 
was  attracted  by  a  gleam  of  light  in  one  corner  of  the 

[7] 


8 


IIAPTTAZAUn   rKIlSONALITIKS. 


IjuiUlinjT,  and  iiftor  duo  investii>;;iti<)n  ho  found  that  it 
procoodod  from  ji  rooia  whoro  tho  llooriniij  lisul  boon  loft 
unilnislu'd,  loii\  hiLC  a  spnoo  HUilicionlly  hir^o  for  tho  body 
of  !i  smimU  boy  to  \niHH  tlirou<^li.  Tlio  opportunity  was 
n(>t  noijloctod,  and  ho  soon  found  liimsolf  "  alono  in  Ins 
«;lory,"  in  tiio  villajjjo  librai'v.  'IMu;  books  woro  not  many, 
and  woro  vory  dusty,  l)ut  tiioro  was  a  oharm  in  the;  siUuico 
of  tho  pliK'o,  as  woll  as  in  tho  iUioit  oxplorntion  upon 
wliich  hi'.  h;\(\  ontorod.  Ho  t<;ok  from  tho  sliolf  a  book, 
whioh  ]i:ip})('nod  to  bo  '*"  Tiio  Fool  of  Quality,"  and,  haviiiiji; 
forgotten  his  rabl)it,  ho  bogan  to  road.  IIo  Ix'onmo  much 
intorostod,  and  road  until  nij^htfall,  Avhcn  lio  rotirod  l)y 
the  dark  passage  throuiih  wliioh  ho  had  ontorcd.  IIo 
mtulo  ii  sooond  and  a  third  visit,  and  having  l)oon  nnmo- 
lostod,  oontinuod  his  visitjitions  until  ho  had  road  and 
enjoyed  every  novel  in  tho  library.  From  tliat  time  until 
he  attained  his  sixteenth  year,  and  while  aotihg  as  a  elorlv 
in  a  store,  he  was  an  inveterate  novel  roadiir,  and  except- 
ing for  the  tondonoy  of  the  habit  to  make  young  people 
unduly  fond  of  the  theatre,  his  later  testimony  was  to  tlie 
effect  tliat  novel  reading  may  be  of  advantage  to  some 
minds,  by  way  of  strongtiiening  the  imagination. 

His  passion  for  novel  reading  ended  quite  as  suddonl}^ 
as  it  liad  Ix^gun,  and  the  transition  to  a  higher  pliaso  of 
culture  happened  after  this  manner.  When  in  his  six- 
teenth year  ho  was  living  in  All)any,  wlioro  lie  w.'is  born 
Dec.  17,  1799.  His  mother,  a  noble  and  a  handsome 
woman,  here  kept  a  pi'ivtite  boarding-house  for  a  time. 
Among  tiio  boarders  was  a  gentleman  of  literary  tastes, 
and  by  a  mere  accident  one  of  his  bo(jks  fell  into  the 
hand  of  young  Henry.  The  title  of  it  was  "  Lectures 
on  Experimental  Fhilosophy,  AstroJiomy,  and  Chem- 
istry," by  George  Gregory,   D.  D.,  London,    1808.     Ho 


JOSKIMI    HKMEY. 


9 


took  tlu'  Itook,  and  on  roadiiii;  a  |)nssM<i;o  !il)ont  tlic  inotionH 
of  llic  cMi'tli  Mround  tlu»  smi,  mikI  the  llicorv  of  j'ravita- 
tion,  111'  throw  it  aside  and  dcnounciMl  siicii  doctrini's  as 
utti'i'iy  I'mIsc.  He  took  up  the  \olimu'  a  st'cond  tiiiu;, 
liowcvci',  wlicii  a  liu'lit  ln'<»:iii  to  dnwii  upoii  liis  iiiiiid,  as 
till'  lii^lit  under  tlit!  climcii  li:id  rciclu'd  |jiH  vision  a  few 
yonrs  Ik'I'oih' ;  lie  soon  l>ee;niii!  so  niueli  interested  in  (lie 
volume  that  its  owner  preseiiti'd  it  to  liiiii,  :ind  it  was  ever 
jifterwiird  kept  by   I'l'ol'essor   Ileiirv  as  one  of  his  treas- 


Ili 


liii>lil' 


ures.  Jiis  rensons  lor  so  niL>,lily  !i[)preeiMiini!;  it  are  sel 
forth  in  the  followinji;  words,  wliieli  will  be  found  written 
Ci)  i-he  fly-lenf  of  the  nieniora])le  volume  :  — 

"  This  book,  although  by  no  means  a  profound  work, 
has,  under  Providence,  exerted  a  remarkable  iiilluenee  on 
my  life.  It  aeeidentally  fell  into  niv  hands  when  I  was 
about  sixteen  years  old,  and  was  the  tirst  ])()ok,  with  the 
exeeption  of  works  of  (iction,  that  1  ever  read  with  atten- 
tion. Jt  opened  to  me  a  new  world  of  thought  and 
enjoyment,  invested  things,  before  almost  unnotieed,  with 
the  highest  interest,  fixed  mv'  m'uu\  on  the  study  of 
nature,  and  caused  me  to  resolve,  at  the  time  of  reading 
it,  that  I  would  devote  my  life  to  the  ac(j[uisition  of  knowl- 
edge.—  Jo.se2>h  JFcnry."* 

'I'liis  was  written  in  1837,  just  before  leaving  for  Europe, 
on  his  first  visit ;  which  tour,  as  he  once  told  me,  was 
of  very  great  benefit  to  him  in  his  various  researches. 
After  reading  Dr.  (Iregorv's  book,  he  ))e<!;an  the  study  of 
science  with  avidity,  and  while  layiiii»-  the  foundation  for 
his  sabsequent  fame,  he  assisted  a  relative,  Mv.  Jolin  F. 
Doty,  silversmith,  as  a  clerk  for  about  two  years,  and  he 
taught  ill  a  country  school.  It  was  a])out  this  time  that 
he  gained  a  local  reputation  as  an  amateur  actor.  A 
dramatic  club  to  which  he  lielonged  occasicmally  gave  the 


10 


IIArilAZAUI)    riCKSONALITIES. 


In 


public  an  cute. taiiimeiit.  Tlie  aiulieiices  were  often  (juite 
large,  and  "Joe  Henry,"  as  he  was  called,  was  noted 
as  a ''  star,"  and  was  popular  in  the  characters  of  Hamlet, 
Damon,  and  Norvel.  He  also  wn^te  two  or  three  simple 
plays,  and  became  the  president  of  the  dramatic  club  ;  and 
here,  by  way  of  further  illustrating  this  dramatic  e[)lsode, 
the  writer  takes  pleasure  in  submitting  the  following, 
related  by  Thurlow  Weed  :  — 

"  When  I  was  a  younger  man,  in  Albany  there  was  a  young 
apprentice  to  Mr.  Doty,  a  sih  ersmith,  who  appeared  to  be 
a  very  bright  fellow  of  seventeen  years.  lie  read  books 
with  avidity,  but  none  with  more  pleasure  and  eagerness 
than  Shakespeare  and  the  works  of  other  dramatic  writers. 
He  seemed  to  have  an  esi)ecial  passion  for  such,  indeed, 
coupled  with  an  inclination  for  tlie  stage.  The  time  came 
soon  for  the  indulgence  of  this  taste,  and  he  joined  a 
company  of  young  amnteur  actors  who  played  at  a  little 
theatre  called  the  Thespian.  The  young  apprentice's 
talent  for  dramatic  impersonation  became  the  talk  of  the 
town  before  long ;  and  when  JMr.  Bernard,  a  noted  man- 
ager in  those  davs,  came  to  Albanv  with  his  own  stroni>; 
company  of  professional  actors,  lie  was  impelled  to  visit 
the  Thespian  Theatre  to  see  the  young  amateur  of  whom 
he  had  heard  so  favorablv.  The  plav  that  nio;ht  was 
'  Hamlet,'  and  the  manager  was  so  sti'uck  with  the  young 
actor's  abilitv  and  intelligence  that  he  sent  for  him  and 
made  him  a  very  tempting  oiler  to  join  his  own  company 
and  adopt  the  stage  as  a  profession. 

"Just  before  this,"  explained  INIr.  AV  ved  to  his  audi- 
tors, "  the  young  man  had  received  an  olfer  of  a  gratui- 
tous education  from  Dr.  Beck,  president  of  the  Albany 
Academy,  and  the  night  the  manager  spoke  to  him  he 
sought  the  counsel  of  two  of  his  chums.     One  of  these 


JOSEPH   HENRY. 


11 


two  was  Muster  Thurlow  Weed,  then  n  yoiin<5  journeyman 
printer.  Both  advised  him  strongly  to  accept  Dr.  Beck's 
offer.  But  the  young  apprentice  was  still  in  doubt.  His 
inclination  prompted  him  to  go  on  the  stage,  while  his 
judgment  dictated  the  acceptance-  of  Dr.  Beck's  kind 
offer.  lie  left  at  last,  saying  that  he  would  talk  with  his 
employer  about  it. 

"  Silversmith  Doty  liked  the  lad,  and  believed  that  he  had 
a  career  of  usefulness  before  him  in  some  learned  profes- 
sion ;  so  when  the  lad  told  him  of  the  two  offers  he  had 
received,  he  said  kindly,  but  firmly :  '  Joseph,  you  are 
under  indentures  to  me  for  two  years  yet.  If  you  will 
accept  the  offer  of  a  free  education,  I  will  let  y(jd  go 
freely.  But  if  yon  conclude  to  go  on  the  stage,  \'()U  must 
make  good  to  uie  the  loss  of  these  two  yeai'S  of  service.' 
This  determined  the  lad,  and  he  went  to  Dr.  Beck's, 
studied  faithfully,  graduated  with  honors,  and  became 
one  of  the  first  scholars  of  his  day. 

"Of  course,"  said  the  narrator,  with  a  quiet  smile,  "  you 
are  curious  to  know  who  he  was.  I  will  tell  you.  The 
lad  was  Dr.  Joseph  Henry,  the  late  president  of  the 
Smithsonian  Institution,  and  whenever  lie  came  to  see  me 
in  New  York  before  his  death,  he  and  I  used  to  recall 
how  small  an  incident  it  was  that  turned  the  tide  of  his 
life  into  its  current  of  widest  usefulness.  He  was  for 
three  years  a  tutor  in  the  family  of  Stephen  \'an  Rensse- 
laer, the  patroon,  and  it  was  after  he  left  this  family  that 
he  obtained  a  position  as  surveyor  and  helped  to  run  the 
route  from  West  Point  to  Lake  Erie." 

He  afterwards  became  an  assistant  at  the  academy  over 

which  Dr.  T.  R.  Beck  presided,  and  had  some  dillunilty 

■  with  a  brother  of  the  doctor,  arising  out  of  a  spirit  of 

rivalry,  and  that  circumstance  made  him  very  unhapi)y. 


12 


HAPHAZARD   I'KRSONALITIES. 


At  this  p!irtl{Mil:ir  :iine,  while  out  wulkiiig,  he  met  his 
warm  prrspiijil  friend,  Greorge  Clinton,  wlio  inquired  the 
ctiuse  of  his  Mppurent  dejection,  iind  on  being  informed, 


he  iniide  this  remark 


Ilenrv,  it  is  your  duty  to  h>:ive 


Allmny,  as  you  know  a  propliet  is  not  without  honor  Kayo 
in  his  own  country."  Hut  the  time  for  his  dei)arture  li:\d 
not  arriyed.  It  was  at  this  period  that  he  began,  and  put 
upon  pa[)er,  some  of  the  tliougths  he  had  bern  cherishing, 
and  printed  tlicni  in  the  transactions  of  tlie  Albany  Insti- 
tute, amorg  thcui  an  ai'tlcle  on  the  Galvanic  MultipUer; 
and  became  a  contributor  to  the  "  American  Journal  of 
Science  and  the  Arts"  in  ]<S3(),  which  was  the  year  of  his 
marriage  to  Harriet  L.  Alexander,  of  Schenectady,  New 
York. 

In  18;32  he  received  a  letter  from  one  of  the  ollicial 
heads  of  Princeton  College,  suggesting  his  appointment  to 
a  i)r()fessorship.  He  replied  that  be  would  not  ask  for 
the  position,  but  if  it  should  be  tendered  to  him,  by  elec- 
tion, li,e  would  prol)ably  accei)t ;  and  all  that  he  could  do 
was,  to  refer  for  his  moral  character  to  the  patroon,  and 
for  his  scientific  attaiinnents  to  Pi'of.  James  Renwick,  of 
Columbia  College.  He  was  duly  elected,  and  how  he 
l)uilt  u[)  his  splendid  fame  in  Princeton  is  well  known  to 
the  scientific  world.  Put,  as  he  told  me,  one  of  the  great- 
est trials  of  his  life  was  his  departure  from  Albany.  He 
felt  as  if  he  could  not  possibly  seyer  the  ties  which  bound 
him  to  his  early  home,  and  the  future  was  so  uncertain. 
Such  was  the  state  of  his  mind,  eyen  when  he  had  gone  ou 
board  the  steamboat  which  was  to  take  him  to  New  Jersey, 
and  one  incident  connected  with  that  departure  I  hayo 
heard  him  mention  with  the  most  tender  feelings.  As  he 
sat  in  the  cabin,  in  a  yer/"  brown  study,"  some  onei>entlv 
tapped  him  ou  the  shoulder  and  spoke  a  kindly  word. 


m 


JOS  El 'II    HENRY. 


13 


That  friend  was  John  Dunlap,  arul  one  of  his  remarks  was 
this,  "Don't  be  depressed,  my  good  fellow;  the  time 
will  come  when  All)any  will  be  proud  to  claim  you  as  her 
son ! "  That  riuht  has  since  been  heartily  claimed,  not 
only  by  tlie  city  of  Albany,  but  by  his  native  country. 
How  Professor  Henry  afterward  passed  from  Princeton  to 
the  head  of  the  Smithsonian  Institution  is  universally 
known  ,  that  transition  was  made  with  a  reluctance  allied 
to  that  which  lie  felt  on  leavino-  Albanv  ;  and  in  these  davs 
of  excessive  onice-sceking,  it  is  worthy  of  remark  that  he 
never  desired  or  solicited  any  olRcial  position  in  all  his 
life,  except  that  of  a  country  schoolmaster,  and  never 
entered  upon  a  new  sphere  of  duty,  without  fear  and 
trembling. 

At  the  time  of  my  first  acquaintance  with  Professor 
Henry,  and  through  all  the  intervening  years,  the  great 
institution  which  he  was  called  upon  to  organize  seemed 
to  be  the  absorbing  theme  of  liis  tiiought,  and  I  have 
been  surprised  to  see  how  his  enlightened  and  far-seeing 
plans  have  all  been  carried  out.  In  those  early  days,  there 
were  many  men  in  Washin^Tton  who  were  worth  knowing, 
and  whose  influence  upon  a  young  man  was  calculated  to 
be»  of  lasting  benefit ;  and  through  such  men  as  Professors 
Ilenry,  and  A.  1).  P>ache,  Gales  and  Seaton,  and  George 
P.  IMarsh,  I  had  access  to  the  most  cultivated  society. 
The  refined  and  elevated  gatherings  which  were  held  at  the 
houses  of  all  these  noted  men  were  a  real  blessing  in  my 
experience  ;  and  when  Congress  was  in  session,  such  men 
as  Clay,  and  Webster,  and  Calhoun  often  stepped  into 
those  eddies  of  literary  and  scientilic  culture. 

Although  niv  relations  with  Professor  Ilenrv  were  only 
those  of  a  personal  friend,  he  was  wont,  occasionally, 
to  call  upon  me  to  help  him  in  matters  of  a  purely  literary 


14 


IIAPIIAZAKn    rKUSONALlTIL^. 


clianieter,  and  what  very  little  I  could  do  for  him  was  paid 
for  most  liberally,  l)y  the  information  he  communicated  to 
me  in  a  quiet  way,  and  by  admitting  me  into  his  entire  con- 
fidence. He  was  so  conscientious  in  the  performance  of 
his  ollicial  duties,  that  he  ever  seemed  disinclined  to  waste 
the  hours  of  business  in  the  formalities  of  social  life  ; 
but  when  the  cares  of  the  day  were  ended,  he  took  great 
pleasure  in  entertaining  his  friends  at  home,  which  he 
always  did  with  surpassing  dignity,  kindness,  and  grace, 
and  in  attending  the  dinners  and  select  receptions  of  his 
official  friends.  But  of  all  the  place-!  where  it  was  my 
privilege  to  meet  him,  none  could  compare  with  his  private 
study  in  the  Smithsonian  Institution,  when  he  was  alone, 
and  the  silence  of  the  place  at  niglit  invited  the  mind  into 
the  higher  realms  of  thought.  Some  of  my  interviews 
with  him  will  alwavs  live  in  mv  memorv  ;  and  if  it  were 
proper  to  do  so,  I  might  mention  remarks  there  first 
uttered  by  the  man  of  science,  which  I  have  known  to  cul- 
minate for  the  advantage  and  honor  of  deserving  men  in 
the  literary  and  scientific  world,  who  were  perhaps  unaware 
at  the  time  that  their  aliilities  were  appreciated  by  the 
great  discoverer  and  philosopher.  It  was  by  him  that  the 
genius  of  Simon  Newcomb  was  fostered  ;  and  I  remember 
on  one  occasion,  when  he  read  to  me  a  letter  which  he  had 
just  written  to  a  noted  astronomer  of  France,  in  which  he 
spoke  of  Professor  Newcomb  in  extravagant  terms  of 
praise,  I  said  to  him,  "The  young  astronomer  ought  to 
see  that  letter"  ;  but  he  replied,  "Oh,  no,  he  will  never  see 
it,  but  he  is  a  remarkable  man  ! " 

Among  the  items  of  his  conversation  which  1  remember 
are  the  following :  How  strange  it  was  that  Presidents 
Lincoln  and  Grant  could  never  be  induced  to  visit  the 
Smithsonian  Institution ;   how,  when  the   professor  once 


fli 


JOSEPH   HENRY. 


15 


made  an  allusion  to  A.  D.  Bacbe,  the  latter  replied,  "  Oh, 
yes,  you  mean  the  man  who  gave  away  his  fortune  so 
foolishly  to  the  Smithsonian  Institution  for  scientific  pur- 
poses;" how  he  met  a  man  in  1872,  who  thanked  him  for 
his  lecture  on  architecture  which  he  had  heard  at  Princeton 
thirty  years  before  ;  and  how  no  recommendation  or  scheme 
which  he  hiul  originated  had  ever  been  unsuccessful. 

Like  Daniel  Webster,  he  was  an  early  riser  and  did  much 
of  his  correspondence  in  the  morning,  and  usually  spent 
two  or  three  hours  in  his  library  before  breakfast. 

The  first  iioto  I  ever  received  from  him  was  written  in 
December,  1848,  and  the  substance  of  it  was  as  follows : 
"I  am  sorry  to  learn  that  you  are  confined  to  3'our  room, 
and  that  1  have  not  been  a])le  to  call  to  see  you.  Mrs. 
Henry  bids  me  say  that  she  will  be  glad  to  receive  you  into 
our  house,  and  to  administer  in  any  way  she  is  able  to  your 
comfort.  The  invitation  to  our  house  is  not  a  mere  com- 
l)limentary  offer,  but  one  which  is  intended  as  a  real  ex- 
pression of  feeling.  Please  let  us  know  by  the  bearer  how 
you  are." 

Another  letter,  illustrating  his  familiar  style,  is  given 
entire :  — 

Princeton,  Aug.  14, 1841). 

My  dear  Sh', — Mrs.  Henry  reminds  me  that  I  ought 
to  acquaint  you  with  the  reason  why  we  did  not  pay  our 
respects  to  your  lady,  before  our  departure  for  the  North. 
We  started  w^ith  the  intention  of  doing  so  on  the  day  of 
the  presentation  of  premiums  at  the  Seminary  (in  George- 
town) ,  but  we  were  so  long  detained  by  the  ceremony  that 
my  time  was  exhausted,  and  I  was  obliged  to  drive  im- 
mediately back  without  calling.  After  that,  on  account  of 
sickness  in  the  family,  and  preparation  for  starting,  INlrs. 
H.  could  not  find  an  opportunity  of  visiting  Georgetown. 


T 


16 


IIAPIIAZi*  Ul)    PKHSONALITIES. 


I  am  off  for  Camlu'idge  this  inoriiing.  Mrs.  II.  will 
follow  1110  in  a  few  days.  Wo  shall  prol)a])ly  give  Mr. 
Baclie  a  visit  in  his  camp  on  the  hills  of  New  Hampshire. 

The  College  of  New  Jersey  has  just  opened  with  a  large 
addition  of  new  students.  The  village  is  entirelv  free 
from  evervthing  like  cholera.  Tlie  survivors  of  the  late 
railroad  accident  are  all  in  a  fair  way  of  reeover3\  Am- 
putation has  in  no  case  been  found  necessary.  I  have 
been  shown  a  drawing  of  the  appearance  of  the  wreck, 
immediately  after  the  collision.  Such  was  the  momentum 
of  the  moving  mass  that  one  car  penetrated  another,  and 
the  two  in  the  drawing  are  represented  as  occupying  the 
same  space.  It  is  passing  strange  that  any  of  the  occu- 
pants could  have  escaped  with  life.  The  sufferers  have 
received  unremitting  attention  from  the  citizens  of  the 
village. 

I  see  by  the  papers  that  you  are  about  to  publish,  in 
the  form  of  a  volume,  vour  travels  in  the  South.  I  have 
no  doubt  that  this  volume  will  sustain  and  increase  the 
reputation  you  have  already  acquired.  You  can  now 
neither  go  back  nor  stay  still :  you  have  given  to  the 
world  a  pledge  of  new  exertions.  IMan  is  capable  of 
indefinite  improvement;  and  he  who  has  done  one  thing 
well  awakens  the  expectation  that  he  will  do  something 
better.  lie  who  has  commenced  to  ascend  the  steep  of 
"  fame's  proud  temple"  must  expect  to  find  no  resting- 
place  ;  his  exertions  upward  must  be  constant,  ^ —  to  pause 
is  to  descend. 

-_WilI  has  entered  college,  and  has  just  been  summoned 
to  attend  his  first  prayer  in  the  chapel. 

With  kind  regards  to  your  lady,  I  remain 

Truly  yours, 

Joseph  IIenky. 


JOSKl'lI   IIKNIIY. 


17 


The  ullusioii  in  this  letter  to  Pi-ofossor  Bjiclie  reminds 

me  of  tlie  fact  tiuit  he  was  iu  tlie  liii])it  of  receivin«r  visits 

from  his  friends,  in  camj),  wlien  out  ni^on  liis  sdentilict 

tours  in  summer,  and  also   tliMt  Jiis  most  aecomplislied 

wife  always  accompanied  him,  and  often  assisted  him  in 

liis  trian-ulntions.     The  n.ilway  accident  alluded  to  was 

one  of  the  most  fatal  tluit  ever  occurred  in  New  Jersey. 

The  person   mentioned   as  Will,  was   Professor  Henry's 

only  son,  an  adminible  young  man,  who  died  in  hfs  early 

prune,  but  left  behind  him  three   charjnino-   and    hiohly 

accomplished  sisters  to  comfort  and  cheer  his  parents  in 

their  declining  years. 

The  letters  and  notes  which  I  received  from  Professor 
Henry  were  many,  but  1  will  only  mention  two  of  them  in 
this  place.  Soon  after  lATr.  Corcoran  had  suirgested  the 
Idea  of  my  having  charge  of  his  picture  gallery,  when 
organized,  I  naturally  luentioned  the  (drcumstlmce  to 
Professor  Henry,  and  in  the  goodness  of  his  heart  he  sent 
the  following  to  the  trustees  of  that  institution  :  — 

"  An  intimate  acquaintance  with  Mr.  C.  L ,  of  more 

than  twenty  years,  has  resulted,  on  my  part,  in  a  warm 
friendship,  founded  on  his  estimable  character  as  a  man, 
a  writer,  and  an  artist. 

"  I  learn  with  much  pleasure  that  he  is  a  candidate  for 
the  directorship  of  the  Corcoran  Art  Gallery,  and  I  most 
sincerely  hope  he  may  be  appointed  to  the  oflice  ;  since, 
independently  of  my  personal  predilections  for  him,  and 
in  view  of  the  prosperity  of  a  noble  institution  in  which  I 
feel  a  deep  interest,  I  can  truly  say  I  am  acquainted  with 
no  one  who  possesses  in  a  higher  degree  the  various  qual- 
ifications necessary  to  properly  discharge  the  duties  of 
this  important  position.  Joseph  Henry. 

"  SMrrnsoxiAN  iNSTrruTiox,  March  17, 1871." 


18 


IIAIMIAZAKI)    I'lCIlSONALITIKS. 


For  nie  to  print  such  u  tri])utc  fi'oin  sucli  ji  man  nuiy  lie 
cleenR'd  iiulelicute  ;  but  it  is  liurd  for  mo  to  pljiy  the  hypo- 
crite, and  as  I  have  always  tried  to  merit  the  g[;ood-will  of 
the  best  of  men,  1  can  only  say  that  such  testimonials 
afford  me  the  most  solid  satisfaction,  and  1  am  uot 
asliamed  to  confess  the  fact. 

Not  loniir  after  Prof essor  llenrv  had  thus  volunteered  to 
second  the  wishes  of  ISIr.  Corcoran  (as  expressed  to  me), 
I  found  that  his  inlluence  with  his  own  trustees  seemed  to 
have  been  lost ;  and  when  I  saw  that  the  real  power  lay 
with  other  men,  and  that  their  ideas  of  art  were  to  rule 
the  "-allery,  I  withdrew  my  claims  as  a  candidate.  Not 
lonii;  afterwards  a  vacancy  occurred  in  the  IJoard  of  Trus- 
tees,  when  Professor  Henry  was  called  upon  to  fill  it ;  and 
although  several  members  of  the  board  were  men  of  real 
culture,  they  took  no  special  or  active  interest  in  the  gal- 
lery, and  the  only  member  of  the  board  with  a  nationtd 
reputation  was  Professor  Henry.  And  here  comes  in  a 
rather  remarkable  fact.  When  the  time  arrived  for  reyu- 
larly  organizing  the  art  gallery,  the  only  member  of  the 
board  who  was  not  notified  to  be  present  on  the  important 
occasion  was  Professor  Henry  ;  and  whether  the  sui)posed 
forgetfulness  had  its  origin  with  the  active  members  of 
the  board  aforesaid,  is  a  question  which  need  not  now  be 
distur])ed,  as  their  own  candidate  was  duly  elected. 

In  June,  1871,  a  note  came  to  me  from  Professor  Henry, 
as  follows  :  — 

' '  I  write  to  ask  that  you  will  call  at  the  Institution 
as  early  as  you  can  conveniently  come.  I  wish  to  see  you 
in  regard  to  a  literary  matter,  in  which  it  may,  perhaps, 
be  for  your  interest  to  engage. 


'»"»' 


"  Truly  your  friend, 

"JosErii  Henry." 


JOSEPH  IIKNuy. 


19 


Tins  note  was  reeoivod  hy  mo,  al)out  one  houi-  after  1 
Imd  returned  home  from  my  summer  tour  to  tl.e  n.oun- 
tarns  and  sea-shore,  and  at  the  particular  time  when  [  was 
undecided  whether  T  should  devote  the  cominir  winter  to 
my  pcmcil  or  my  pen.     I  was  promptly  on  hand,  heard 
from  the  professor    that  lie  had  been    asked    I)y  Arinori 
Mon,  the  Japanese  minister,  to  nominate  some  person  to 
write  a  book  about  the  United  States  for  use  in  Japan  ; 
luid  thus  began  my  long  and  very  agreeable   experiences 
with  the  Japanese  government,  which  have  elsewhere  been 
recorded;    convincing    me,    beyond   all    possible   doubt, 
that  there  is  an  Omnipotent  Hand  directing  all  the  affairs 
of  men.     The  book  here  alluded  to  contained  an  article 
on  scientific  matters  and  as  it  also  had  an  allusi(m  to  Pro- 
fessor Henry's  discoveries,  I  sent  it  to  him  for  correction, 
when  he  returned  the  following  answer :  — 


Smithsonian  Institution,  Feb.  fi,  1872. 
My  dmr  Sh',—1   return   you    the    manuscript  of   the 
article  on  science,  after  having  made  some  changes  of  ini- 
Portnnce  in  order  to  render  it  better  adapted  to  the  use  for 
which  It  is  intended. 

T  have,  as  you  see,  omitted  the  last  paragraph,  which  if 
retained  would  appear  invidious  and,  indeed,  unjust ;  since 
It  refers  to  one  invention  among  the  many  which  have  been 
PHKluced  in  our  country.  I  have,  in  order  to  meet  your 
WKsUes,  uiserted  my  name  in  the  paragraph  above  the  last ; 
whicn,  I  hope,  will  suffice  for  my  glorification. 
I  think  It  important  that  1  should  see  a  proof  of  the 


ai'ticle. 


Truly  yours,  etc., 


JosEni  Henry. 


20 


IlArilAZAUI)    I'KIlSONALITIIvS. 


In  Aupjust,  1872,  there  w:is  a  sli^lit  nrisunderstanding 
between  Mv.  Mori,  the  J:ii)tuiese  minister,  and  myself,  and 
as  I  had  been  iutrothiced  to  that  gH'iith'mnn  by  Pro- 
fessor Henry,  I  thouglit  it  my  duty  to  notify  him  of  what 
had  happened,  —  he  was  then  at  the  sea-shore,  —  and  here 
is  the  reply  he  sent  me  :  — 


Rye  Beach,  1^.  II.,  Sept.  11, 1872. 

My  dear  Sir,  —  I  am  surprised  and  p^rieved  to  learn 
what  you  have  informed  me  in  re<2;ard  to  the  Japan  affairs. 
I  do  not  see  how  Mr.  IMori  can  do  without  you.  lie  has 
no  aptitude  for  luisiness,  and  will  fall  a  ])rey  to  any  plau- 
sible fellow  who  liMs  the  opportunity  to  gain  his  confidence. 

Indeed,  I  liMve  come  to  regard  the  attemi)t  of  the  Jap- 
anese to  become  suddenly  civilized,  and  to  change  at  once 
all  their  customs,  with  considerable  solicitude.  They  are 
certainly  undergoing  a  great  change,  but  what  the  result 
will  be  is  not  very  clear.  They  cannot,  on  the  doctrine  of 
probabilities,  choose  in  every  case  the  right  course,  since 
there  is  but  one  right  among  many  wrong  ways.  I  tliini< 
the  proposition  to  introduce  at  once  into  the  counti'v  our 
system  of  common  schools  is  one  of  doul)tful  propriety, 
and  that  the  person  they  have  chosen  for  the  direction  of 
tlie  system  is  not  quite  as  prudent  as  he  might  be.  'IMie 
remarks  he  made  in  regard  to  the  acts  of  our  government 
with  reference  to  the  Japanese  were  received  with  disfavor 
at  the  educational  convention  at  Boston.  What  they 
want  first  is  a  knowledge  of  arts  and  sciences,  and  after 
that  a  gradual  enlightenment  of  the  people  gcmerally.  As 
I  have  said  elsewhere,  the  change  must  work  downward, 
not  upward.  Another  matter  in  which  I  think  they  have 
been  badly  advised  is  that  of  the  introduction  of  paper 
money,  which,  1  am  sure,  will  lead  to  evils  of  the  gravest 
character. 


JOSKIMI    IIKNRY. 


21 


I  i)!U'ti('ii)nto  iu  your  fiHilinjr.s  ro<r!inlin<r  IMr.  iMori.  He 
stands  on  u  (lMnnv,,,„H  elevation.  "  W  all  the  i)lMnH  wliieh 
he  advocatt-s  and  utten.i,ts  to  reduce  to  prnetiee  do  not 
pnHhiee  the  anticipated  results,  he  will  he  denounced. 
Censure  is  nnich  more  freely  bestowed  than  praise;  a  sin- 
i>Ie  la  dure  outweighs  many  successes. 

'  l'«'.-"-  oiii'  fnend,  (leneral  Capron,  will  lind  himself  in  :i 
<l"li'-'.lt  iH,siti.m.      It   will   he   no  easy  matter  f<,r  him  to 
'•^'f'-"u   the    fnll   conlldence   of  the  .Japanese  oovernment  • 
".iracles  will  he   expected   where  ordinary  results  are   oh' 
tamed  with  difllculty.     The  Japanese,  however,  ca.mot  go 
•ack.     They  must  and  will  go  on,  though  it  can  scarcely 
Ih'   expected,  from  the    history  of  the   world,   that   their 
course  Will  he  a  continuously  smooth  one  ;  or  that  the  posi- 
tion of  the  leaders,  such  as  that  of  our  friend  JMori,  will  he 
free  from  danger. 

I  know  you  have  been  of  great  service  to  Mv.  iVFori,  and 
have  fully  sustained  the  character  1  gave  you  when  I  rec- 
ommended you  for  the  place.  It  is  evident  that  he  is 
actmg  nnder  some  improper  influence,  and  it  is  a  very  un- 
fortunate condition. 

Very  truly  your  friend,  etc., 

JosEpji  Henry. 

l^  S.  Your  letter  of  the  8th  came  to  hand  in  the  mail 
of  last  n.ght  and  I  add  this  postscript  to  thank  you  for 
the  copies  of  the  "  Athen.'cum  "  containing  the  accmmtof 
the  proceedings  of  the  British  Association.  I  have  read 
w.  h  much  interest  the  address  of  Dr.  Carpenter,  and  fnlly 
subscribe  to  all  the  propositions  he  has  advanced  In  re- 
gard to  the  philosophy  of  science,  there  is  at  the  present 
time  much  indefiniieness  of  conception  which  the  address 
Of  the  doctor  will  tend  to  clear  up.     1  shall  write  to  thank 


22 


HAIMIAZAUI)    nCUSONALITIKS. 


Iiiin  for  the  service  which  ho  hits  rendered,  through  it,  to 
the  etiuse  of  truth. 

I  expected  th:it  he  would  include  in  the  topics  to  be  dis- 
cussed that  of  spiritualism,  and  allude  to  the  expeiinients 
relative  to  it  by  Mr.  Crooks,  since  he  has  wiitteii  against 
the  delusions  of  this  remarkable  superstition  of  later  days. 
I  am  pleasi'd  to  learn  that  you  have  made  tlu;  ac(juaint- 
anci!  of  my  friend  Captain  Keeney,  whom  I  regard  as  a 
representative  man  of  the  very  bi'st  class  of  a  New 
Kngland  order.  We  leave  here  on  'i'hursday  morning  to 
embark  at  Newport  on  the  captain's  steamer  for  New 
York  ;  we  shall  be  several  davs  on  the  wav  in  order  to  give 
Sir  Fi'ederick  Arrow,  thc^  head  of  the  Ti-initv  House,  Lou- 
don,  —  who  lias  come  with  two  associates,  to  study  oui'  fog 
sign:d  system,  —  an  opportunity  to  examine  oiu'  light- 
houses. Sh;ill  see  you  as  sot)n  us  1  return  to  Washing- 
ton, on  the  Japan  business. 

J.  II. 


And  here  is  another  letter  wdiich  will  explaii;  itself,  and 
proves  what  a  devoted  friend  I  had  in  the  professor:  — 

Smithsonian  Institution,  Washington,  1).  C. 

April  .'J,  1874. 

Dear  Sir,  —  I  desire  to  introduce  to  j^our  personal  ac- 
(piaintance  my  friend  ]Mr.  Charles  Lanman.  AVith  his 
position  as  an  author  you  are  already  familiar,  but  as  he  is 
also  an  artist  and  now  devoted  to  tluit  profession,  he  de- 
sires to  confer  with  you  on  the  Art  Commission  tj  be 
established  by  Congress. 

».  CI? 

As  it  is  advisable  that  the  members  of  said  commission 
should  be  selected  from  different  parts  of  the  country  and 
not  from  one  city,  I  would,  through  your  instrumentality, 


JOSEPH    IlKNRY. 


28 


h  it,  to 

I  be  dis- 
liments 
ni:;!iinst 
'I*  (Imvs. 
•(lujiiiit- 

U      Xl'NV 

iiiiii>-  to 
•jv  New 
to  ^ivo 
e,  Loii- 
oiir  foo- 
•  liu'lit- 
usliiiig- 

J.  II. 


If,  unci 


r,  I).  C. 


ic- 


iijil  { 
ith  his 
IS  ho  is 
ho  do- 
to  bo 


suggest  the  ;ii)[)()intnieMt  of  INFr.  Luinnsui  jis  the  represeiit- 
titive  of  Wjishington,  wliere  ho  resides. 

lly  wJiy  of  sni)[)()rtiMg  my  iioiiiiiiution,  I  beg  h':ive  to  hiy 
l)efore  you  :i  set  of  eredentiiils  in  his  ))ehulf,  pi-epnrcd  for 
use  in  unotlier  (|ii:u'ter  :  by  two  cx-presiih'uts  of  the  New 
York  Av'iideuiy  of  Design,  Professor  S.  F.  W.  Morse 
:uhI  Dnniel  Huntington  ;  ]»y  Williuni  C  IJryjint,  oue  of  linj 
foiuuk'rs  of  the  New  York  IMuscuni  of  Art;  by  .buues 
Ih'ooks,  for  whose  »Iournj»l  Mr.  Lunnuin  w:is  formerly  !i 
writer  upon  Art  ;  l)y  Professor  Sjinniel  Tyler,  who  is  jie- 
(luiiiuted  with  tlie  nrt  tiffuirs  of  AVMsliiuiituu  ;  jind  by  vom* 
oljeihent  seryiint.  The  joint  resolution  sul)mitted  l)y  Mr.  < 
Cox  mentions  three  pei'sons,  nil  residing  in  New  York. 

Should  you  or  other  meml)ers  of  the  Library  Comniitteo 
desire  to  see  some  of  JMr.  Lanmun's  pHxhietions,  I  um  cer- 
tain tluit  lu!  would  gladly  arrange  to  have  you  visit  liis 
house  and  inspect  his  pictures  and  valuable  art  library,. 

jMy  reason  for  appealing  to  you  in  the  matter  is  that  I 
am  sure  you  feel  an  interest  in  st'cing  the  metropolis  beau- 
tilied,  and  from  your  long  experieuco  can  act  understiiud- 
ingly  in  advising  the  conunittee. 

1  have  the  honor  to  be-  very  truly  yours, 

JosErir  TlKNiiY. 
Hon.  J.  A.  Gaufield. 

During  the  summer  of  1875  it  Vv'as  my  privilege  to 
spend  a  few  weeks  in  the  daily  companionship  of  l*rofes- 
sor  Henry  at  lilock  Island.  Our  several  families  were 
with  us,  and  altogether  we  certainly  had  a  "glorious 
time,"  h(msed  in  the  comfortable  and  elegant  Ocean 
View  Hotel.  His  business  was  to  try  a  series  of  experi- 
ments with  the  fog-horns,  which  ended  in  his  demolishing 
u  pet  theory  of   Professor  Tyndall ;  and  my  occui)ation 


24 


HAPHAZARD    rEllSONAHTIES . 


i'l! 


i 


WHS  to  study  and  depict  on  caiivsis  the  ])eantios  of  the  SMrf, 
along  tlic  shores  of  the  island.  On  several  occasions  I 
waited  upon  him  while  trying  his  experiments,  and  »vas 
amazed  to  see,  in  view  of  his  advanced  age,  with  what 
persevering  industry,  supi)orted  by  rare  excitement,  he 
followed  up  his  investigations.  Hut  there  was  one  incident 
which  happened  to  us  which  made  me  well-nigh  resolve 
that  1  would  never  again  drive  a  span  of  horses,  or  a  single 
one,  in  a  carritige  or  wagon,  tchen  tiif/  annpanion  ivas  a 
[freatmau.  One  morning,  when  taiving  the  professor  to 
(he  new  lighthouse,  where  he  was  trying  his  ex[)eriments 
on  the  pliilosophy  of  sound,  the  traces  of  the  harness  l)e- 
came  inifastened  as  we  were  going  down  a  hill,  andnotiiing 
but  the  h:ind  of  Providence  prevented  him,  if  not  l)otli  of 
us,  from  l)eing  killed.  The  accident  reminded  me  of  the 
more  serious  one  which  hai)pened  to  Daniel  Webster  and 
mvself  near  Plvmouth  in  1852;  and  what  added  to  the 
marvel  of  this  escape  was  the  fact  that  I  was  driving  a 
very  spirited  and  almost  unbroken  colt. 

To  have  been  with  Professor  Ileiiry,  when  ho  was  per- 
forming his  important  experiments  on  sound,  was  a  cir- 
cumstance to  be  rememl)ered  with  gratitude,  but  it  was  a 
greater  privilege  to  be  with  him  on  several  occasions  at 
the  Centennial  Exhibition  in  1<S7('».  His  comments  upon 
the  accumulated  wonders  of  the  place  were  full  of  interest 
and  highly  instructi\'e,  nor  can  I  ever  forget  the  chtiracter 
of  our  linal  meeting  there,  on  the  last  dav  of  mv  attend- 
ance.  Having  been  told  tlitit  he  liad  returned  to  Wash- 
ington, he  was  the  last  man  that  I  expected  to  see,  but  my 
surprise  was  greatly  enhanced  by  linding  him  more  than 
hair  asleep,  as  lie  sat  ah)ne  on  one  of  the  benches  in  a 
quiet  nook  of  the  Great  Ihiilding.  lie  was  worn  out  with 
fatigue,  but  being  aware  of  his  self-reliant  determiuatiou 


JOSKIMI    IIKNKY. 


25 


a  t'lr- 
wns  a 

1)1  IS  at 
upon 


ill  ixoiiis^  and  coming  when  ho  ph'ased,  I  made  no  proffer  of 
tissistaiice,  which  I  knew  wouhl  be  rejected.  The  throngs 
of  peopU;  who  passed  ahjiig  jjiiid  no  more  attention  to 
liim  tluui  they  wouhl  to  any  respectable  gentleman,  for, 
tliouiih  familiar  with  his  name  and  fame,  thev  did  not  rec- 
ogiiize  his  person  ;  and  yet,  there  snt  the  man,  sick,  alone 
and  unknown  to  the  crowd  around  him,  from  whose  ])rain 
had  s[»iung  the  secret  of  the  telegra[)li,  and  without  whose 
various  discoveries  the  great  Centennial  Kxhibition,  in 
many  i)articulars,  would  not  have  been  possible. 

One  of  the  most  agreeable  [)t»rtics  that  I  ever  attended 
in  Wasliington  was  given  by  Commodore  Charles  AVilkes 
manv  vears  auo.  It  was  a  most  eh'ii-ant  affair  in  all  its 
appointments,  and  many  of  the  guests  were  famous  for 
their  liigh  positions  or  their  intellectual  attainments.  Pro- 
fessor Henry  and  his  wife  were  among  them.  Thirty 
years  afterwards,  tiie  commodore,  after  rellecting  great 
honor  upon  his  country,  died,  leaving  his  family  poor. 
One  of  his  daughters  found  it  necessary  to  try  and  obtain 
an  ollice,  whereby  she  could  su})port  herself.  She  nuide 
manv  trials  and  did  not  succeed.     In  her  extremitv  >*he 

\.  ft. 

went  to  Professor  Henry  and  ntirrated  all  her  trials.    After 

ft/ 

listening  to  her  story,  he  said  that  he  api)reciated  her  noble 
spirit  in  seeking  the  irksome  employment  of  a  clerk,  and 
added,  "  Is  it  possible  that  a  daughter  of  Charles  Wilkes 
should  be  compeUed  to  ask  twice  for  a  petty  clerkship?  " 
wlieii  the  dear  old  man's  feelings  overwhelmed  him,  and 
he  \vei)t  like  a  very  child.     It  was  not  loin*-  after  that  in- 

■*■  ft/  ii 

terview  before  the  lady  had  obtained  the  position  she 
desired.      ,^— —  —  •' 

During  the  year  1877  the  friends  of  the  professor  fre- 
quently suggested  that  he  needed  and  fully  deserved  some 
respite  from  his  public  labors.     On  one  occasion  his  fam- 


26 


IIArilAZAllD    I'KRSONAMTIES. 


ily  physiciiin,  Dr.  Grafton  Tyler,  intimated  that  he  might 
at  least  give  up  his  connection  with  the  Lighthouse  Board, 
and  his  sudden  reply  was,  "  Not  that,  not  that ;  .some  other 
duties,  perhaps,  but  not  that."  His  interest  in  scientific 
studies  was  unabated,  but  he  did  not  work  with  his  for- 
mer vigor  ;  and  as  of  old,  he  went  occasionally  into  society, 
where  he  was  as  dignified  and  agreeable  as  he  had  always 
been.  After  entering  upon  liis  eightieth  year,  he  began  to 
discuss  with  his  intimate  friends  the  propriet}^  of  resign- 
ing the  position  of  president  of  the  Academy  of  Sciences, 
at  the  annual  meeting  in  April,  187<S  ;  and  so,  when  the 
Academy  met,  he  did  submit  his  resignation,  but,  in  terms 
that  were  highly  complimentary,  it  was  not  accepted.  Aud 
more  than  that,  the  eminent  men  composing  the  Academy 
made  known  the  fact  tiiat  a  fund  of  forty  thousand  dollars 
had  been  raised,  and  was  already  in  safe-keeping  for  the 
benefit  of  the  grand  old  president  and  his  family.  It  was 
indeed  a  worthy  tribute  of  affection  and  admiration,  Jion- 
orable  both  to  those  who  gave  and  to  him  who  was  the 
recipient,  —  one  of  those  "  scientific"  performances  which 
everybody  could  appreciate,  and  which  will  long  be  re- 
membered with  pride  by  the  scholars  of  the  land. 

For  many  weeks  before  his  death  lie  was  quite  ill  and 
suffered  great  pain,  but  he  was  at  all  times  gentle  and  \rA- 
tient  to  the  last  degree,  proving  himself  to  be  a  n()l)le 
Christitm  ;  and  he  retained  his  mental  powers  in  full  vigor 
until  the  end  of  life.  His  last  words  were,  "  AVhich  way 
comes  the  wind?  "  and  with  his  mind  still  echoing  the  spirit 
of  inquiry  into  the  realms  of  nature,  lie  passed  away  in 
perfect  peace.  His  death,  on  the  l-'Jth  of  Ai)ril,  bSTH, 
closed  a  life  of  honor  and  of  usefulness  which  will  be 
remembered  as  cue  of  the  leading  landmarks  of  the 
century. 


HENliY   W.    LONGFELLOW. 


27 


His  funeral  took  pluce  on  the  IGth  of  April,  lit  the  New 
York  Avenue  Presbyterian  Clmreh  and  at  the  Oak  Hill 
Cemetery  in  Washington,  attended  by  large  numbers  of 
friends  and  the  most  eminent  men  connected  with  the 
government.  The  leading  prtiyer  was  offered  by  his  old 
friend,  Dr.  C'liarles  Hodge,  and  the  sermon  delivered  by 
i\ev.  S.  S.  iMitchell,  I)oth  of  tliem  being  all  tliat  could  Iiave 
been  desired.  It  was  my  sad  [,.''ivilege,  under  instructions 
from  his  widow  and  ciiildren,  to  make  all  the  arrangements 
for  purchasing  the  beautiful  ground  where  now  repose  tlie 
ashes  of  the  great  man,  who  had  been  my  friend  for  tiiirty 
ve:irs.  On  t\w  Kith  of  January,  liSTl),  memorial  services 
were  held  in  the  National  Capitol  by  the  two  Houses  of 
Congress,  Ciiief  Justice  Waite  presiding,  at  which  were 
present  the  Supreme  Court,  the  l^resident  and  Cabinet,  on 
whicli  occasion  clocpient  addresses  were  made  by  not  less 
than  eight  men  of  distinction  in  public  affairs.  Congress 
also  made  an  appropriation  for  the  erection  of  a  bronze 
btatue  in  the  grounds  of  the  Smithsonian  Institution, 
wliich  was  duly  tinished,  and  also  ordered  a  memorial 
volume  to  be  prepared  and  published,  which  was  accom- 
plished in  1880. 


away  ni 


-* 


HENRY   W.    LONGFELLOW. 

I  FiusT  met  this  eminent  poet  and  scholar  wlien  he  was 
on  a  visit  to  New  York,  and  received  from  Park  IJenjamin 
tile  sum  of  twenty-live  dollars  for  the  poem  entitled  The 
Wri'ck  of  the  Ilesperns,  the  pr(K)f  of  which  it  was  my 
privilege  to  read.  That  fact,  combined  with  his  kindly 
treatment  of  me,  made  a  pleasurable  impression  on  my 
mind  which  nothing  has  ever  been  able  to  dampen,  except- 
ing  the   knowledge   that  he   reeeivetl   such  a   miserable 


28 


IIAPIIAZAUD    FEUS0NALITIE3. 


pittance  for  one  of  tlie  most  admirable  ballads  in  the 
language. 

In  1842,  the  men  of  my  literary  idolatry  were  Hawthorne 
(then  without  fame),  Dana,  and  Longfellow;  and  when 
my   maiden  yolume,    the   "  P^ssays   for  Sunmier  Hours," 

ft-  '  »  ' 

made  its  appearance,  I  forwarded  a  copy  to  each  of  them, 
the  two  former  of  whom  sent  me  their  acknowhHlgnu'nls 
at  once,  l>ut  it  was  ticenty-seven  ye(U's  before  I  receiyed 
a  reply  from  Mr.  Longfellow.  When,  in  18(15),  I  sent  him 
a  copy  of  uiv  ''Dictionary  of  Congress,"  for  the  reason 
tliat  it  contained  a  notice  of  his  fatlier,  I  imi)royed  the 
occasion  to  remind  him  of  my  former  conmumication,  and 
then  he  wrote  me  the  f  oUowiuii  :  — 


CA^iinniKiK,  Xmas,  18(59. 

Ml/ dear  /Sir,  —  J  jiaye  had  th(!  pleasure  of  receiving  your 
letter  and  your  "  Dictionary  of  Congress,"  and  hasten  to 

».  ft  t*  ' 

thank  you  for  this  mark  of  your  remembrance  and  re- 
gard. 

The  volume  is  very  valuable  and  very  interesting,  not- 
withstanding the  modest  disclaimer  in  vour  letter.  The 
proverb  says,  "  No  l)ishop  should  speak  evil  of  his 
reliciues."      Certainly   you  should   not   of  yours.      I   am 

1  ft.  ^  c> 

sure  to  find  here  information  which  1  could  find  nowhere 
else. 

1  remember,  perfectly  well,  receiving  your  former  vol- 
unu!,  many,  many  years  ago.  I  n>meml)er,  efpially  well, 
writino-  to  you  at  the  time  in  acknowledgment  of  your  kind- 
ne.'jS ;  and  1  am  very  sorrv  to  learn  that  my  letter  never 

a.  ^  ft. 

reached  you.  We  nuist  set  it  down  to  one  of  those  mis- 
ha})s  which  sometimes  thwart  the  best  concerted  schemes 
and  the  most  punctilious  correspondents.  We  shall  never 
know  how  nmch  mi^cjiief  has  been  done  in  the  world  by 


HENUY   W.    LONOFKLT.OW. 


20 


ds  in  the 

Liwtliorne 
unci  when 
V  Hours," 
1  of  thein, 
lodgments 
[  received 
[  sent  him 
he  reason 
roved  the 
ition,  and 


,s,  1800. 
vino-  vour 
hasten  to 
tmd  re- 
ting,  Hot- 
ter. The 
I  of  his 
I  am 
.  nowliere 

mer  vol- 
[illy  well, 
jur  kind- 
;er  never 
iose  mis- 
schemes 
all  never 
svorld  by 


the  miscarriage  of  letters.  Thanking  you  once  more,  and 
wishing  you  all  the  good  wishes  of  the  season,  I  remain, 
my  dear  sir, 

Yours  truly, 

Henry  W.  Longfellow. 

In  November,  1871,  wiiile  exhibiting  a  portfolio  of  my 
sketches  in  oil  to  a  nephew  of  the  poet,  W.  P.  P.  Long- 
fellow, we  stumbled  upon  a  view  of  Norman's  Woe,  near 
Cape  Ann,  when  he  remarked,  "  My  uncle  should  see  tliat 
picture,  for  I  know  it  would  greatly  interest  him."  On  the 
next  day,  accordingly,  I  packed  up  the  picture,  and  with 
another  (a  view  on  the  coast  of  Nova  Scotia,  the  home 
of  Evangeline),  sent  it  off  to  Mr.  Longfellow,  accom- 
panied by  a  note  of  explanation  in  which  I  recalled  the 
fact  of  our  meeting  many  years  before  at  the  house  of 
I*ark  Benjamin,  in  New  York,  who  was  the  first  to  pub- 
lish the  poem  about  the  ^'  Hesperus,"  and  who  paid  for  it 
the  pittance  of  twenty-five  dollars.  The  letter  which  Mr. 
Longfellow  sent  me  in  return,  worth  more  than  a  thousand 
sketches,  was  as  follows  :  — 

Cambridge,  Nov.  24, 1871. 
Ml/  dear  Sir,  —  Last  night  I  had  the  pleasure  of  receiv- 
ing your  friendly  letter  and  the  beautiful  pictures  that 
came  with  it ;  and  L  thank  you  cordially  for  the  welcome 
gift  and  the  kind  remembrance  that  prompted  it.  They 
are  botli  very  interesting  to  me,  particularly  the  Ileef  of 
Norman's  Woe.  What  you  say  of  the  ballad  is  also  very 
gratifying,  and  induces  me  to  send  you  in  return  a  bit  of 
autol)iography. 

Looking  over  a  journal  for  1839,  a  few  days  ago,  I 
found  the  following  entries  :  — 


30 


lIArilAZARD    PERSONALITIES. 


Hi  I 


!       : 


"  Decern] XT  I  7.  —  News  of  shipwrecks  ;  horrible  on  the 
coast.  Forty  bodies  wtislied  ashore  near  Gloucester;  one 
woman  lashed  to  a  i)ii'ce  of  wreck.  There  is  a  ree^'  .ulled 
Norman's  Woe,  where  many  of  these  took  place.  Among 
others  the  schooner  '  Hesperus ' ;  also  the  '  Seatlower,'  on 
Bhick  Kock.      I  will  write  a  ballad  on  this. 

"  Deceml)er  30.  —  Wrote  last  evening  a  notice  of  All- 
ston's  Poems,  after  which  sat  till  one  o'clock  by  the  fire 
smoking,  when  suddenly  it  came  into  my  mind  to  write 
the  ballad  of  the  schooner  '  Hesperus,'  which  I  accord- 
ingly did.  Then  went  to  bed,  but  could  not  sleep.  New 
thoughts  were  running  in  my  mind,  and  I  got  up  to  add 
them  to  the  ballad.     Tt  was  three  by  the  clock." 

All  of  this  is  of  no  importance  but  to  myself.  How- 
ever, I  like  sometimes  to  recall  the  circumstances  under 
which  a  poem  was  w^ritten  ;  and  as  you  express  a  liking 
for  this  one,  it  may  perhaps  interest  3"ou  to  know  why  and 
when  and  how  it  came  into  existence.  I  had  quite  for- 
gotten about  its  first  publication  ;  but  I  find  a  letter  from 
Park  Benjamin,  dated  Jan.  7,  1840,  beginning  (you  will 
recognize  his  style)  as  follows  :  — 

"Your  ballad,  Tlie  Wreck  of  the  Ileaporus^  is  grand. 
Inclosed  are  twenty-five  dollars  (the  sum  you  mentioned) 
for  it,  paid  by  the  proprietors  of  The  New  York  Worlds 
in  which  glorious  paper  it  will  resplendently  coruscate  on 
Saturday  next." 

Pardon  this  gossip,  and  believe  me,  with  renewed  thanks, 

Yours  faithfully, 

IIenky  W.  Longfellow. 


By  way  of  prolonging  the  delightful  "gossip"  just 
given  in  Mr.  Longfellow's  letter,  I  submit  the  following, 
obtained  from  him  during  a  personal  interview.     Among 


I  ( 


ITENUV   W.    LONC. FELLOW. 


81 


jle  on  the 
stor ;  one 
ee^  .iiiled 
Among 
ower,'  on 

e  of  All- 
>y  the  fire 
to  write 
I  aecord- 
;p.  Now 
p  to  iidd 

f.  How- 
ces  under 
a  Hkinii: 
why  and 
luite  for- 
tter  from 
(yon  will 

s  grand, 
ntioned) 
'c  World, 
scate  on 

I  thanks, 

LLOW. 

llowing, 
Among 


the  eonsidenitions  wliich  induced  hira  to  write  about  the 
"Hesperus"  was  the  "  indescril)a])ly  sad"  name  of  Nor- 
mcDi'fi  Woe,  which  the  newspapers  mentioned  as  the  scene 
of  the  disaster.  With  regard  to  his  poem  of  Excelsior, 
it  was  suirjrested  to  the  ])oet  hv  the  loftv  sentiments  con- 
tained  in  a  letter  which  he  had  received  from  Iiis  friend 
Charles  Sumner.  As  his  ideas  developed,  he  resolved  to 
display  in  a  series  of  pictures  the  life  of  a  man  of  gen- 
ius, resisting  all  temptations,  and  casting  aside  all  fears, 
licedless  of  all  warnings  of  danger,  pressing  onward  in  the 
great  purpose  of  his  life.  As  the  poet  wrote  to  his  friend 
C.  K.  Tuckerman,  "  He  passes  through  the  Alpine  village, 
through  the  rough,  cold  })aths  of  the  world,  where  the 
peasants  cannot  understand  him,  and  where  his  watch- 
word is  an  '  unknown  tongue.'  He  disregards  the  hap- 
l)iness  of  domestic  peace  and  sees  the  glacier,  this  fate, 
before  him.  He  disregards  the  warning  of  the  old  man's 
wisdom  and  the  fascinations  of  woman's  love.  He 
answers  to  all,  '  Higher  yet ! '  The  monks  of  St.  Ber- 
luird  are  the  representatives  of  religious  forms  and  cere- 
inonies,  and  with  their  oft-repeated  prayer  mingles  the 
sound  of  his  voice,  telling  them  there  is  something  higher 
than  forms  and  ceremonies.  Filled  with  these  aspirations, 
he  perishes  without  having  reached  the  perfection  he 
longed  for ;  and  the  voice  heard  in  the  air  is  the  promise 
of  immortality  and  progress  ever  upward.  You  will  per- 
ceive that  '  excelsior,'  an  adjective  of  the  comparative 
degree,  is  used  adverbially ;  a  use  justified  by  the  best 
Latin  writers." 

Unlike  the  productions  just  mentioned.  The  Psalm  of 
Life  was  the  spontaneous  outgrowth  of  his  mind  ;  and  it 
is  a  singular  fact  that  while  he  at  first  hesitated  to  give  it 
to  the  public,  when  published,  it  immediately  became  one 


32 


n A rn  a  z  a  h n  r euson alities . 


of  the  most  popular  of  all  his  poems.  It  was  this  pro- 
duction, moreover,  whicli  iiwluced  an  Englislimiin,  wlien 
the  poet  WMS  in  P^ni^laiul,  to  accost  hira  when  about  to 
enter  liis  carriage,  and  to  ask  the  privilege  of  shaking  by 
the  hand  the  man  who  had  afforded  him  so  much  plens- 
ure  ;  and  it  should  put  all  American  readers  to  the  ])lush 
to  learn  that  while  the  two  jx^mus  entitled  The  Psahii  of 
Life  and  the  Reaj)er  Death  were  both  published  in  the 
old  "  Knickerbocker"  magazine,  the  editor  thereof  did  not 
tliink  their  author  worthv  of  any  remuneration  :  but  the 
origin  of  EvcuHjelhie  is  also  very  interesting,  and  is  here 
given  in  the  poet's  own  words  :  — 

"Hawthorne  came  to  dine  with  me  one  day,  and 
bi'ought  a  friend  with  him  from  S;dem.  While  at  the  din- 
ner, tlie  friend  said  to  me,  '  i  have  been  trying  to  get 
JIawtliorne  to  write  a  story  about  the  b;;nishnient  of  the 
Acadians,  founded  upon  the  life  of  a  young  girl,  who  was 
then  separated  from  her  lover,  spent  the  balance  of  her 
life  searching  for  him,  and  when  both  were  old,  found  him 
dying  in  a  hospital.'  I  caught  the  thought  at  once,  that 
it  would  make  a  striking  picture  if  put  in  verse,  and  said, 
'  Hawthorne,  give  it  to  me  for  a  poem,  and  promise  me 
that  you  will  not  write  about  it  until  I  have  written  tlie 
poem.'  Hawthorne  said  there  was  nothing  in  it  for  a 
story,  and  immediately  assented  to  my  request,  and  it  was 
agreed  that  I  should  use  his  friend's  story  for  verse  when- 
ever it  suited  me  to  do  so."  ; 

In  July,  1872,  after  William  L.  Shoemaker,  of  George- 
town, D.  C,  had  read  to  me  one  of  his  poems,  he 
expressed  a  desire  to  know  what  Mr.  Longfellow  would 
think  of  it,  whereupon  I  volunteered  to  send  it  to  Cam- 
bridge, accompanied  by  a  second  poem,  with  an  explana- 
tory note.  In  due  time  the  following  pleasant  letter  was 
received :  — 


i|il!  ■ 


1 


HENRY    W.    LONGFELLOW. 


33 


ras  this  pro- 
^limun,  wlien 
len  about  to 
shjikiiicr  bv 
much  ])lo;is- 
to  the  l)hish 
7ie  PsnJni  of 
sh(Ml    in  the 
ireof  (lid  not 
on  ;  but  the 
and  is  here 

day,    and 
5  at  the  din- 
vinir  to  got 
lent  of  the 
rl,  wlio  was 
inee  of  her 
,  found  him 
once,  that 
',  and  said, 
)ioinise  me 
written  the 
n  it  for  a 
and  it  was 
erse  when- 

of  Georjre- 
poems,  he 
How  would 
t  to  Cara- 
1  explana- 
letter  was 


Nahant,  July  20, 1872. 
My  dear  Sir, —  These  are  both  good  poems  that  you 
send  me,  and  particularly  The  Cardinal  Flower,  which  I 
like  very  much. 

Were  I  to  criticise  it  in  any  way,  I  should  say,  suppn^ss 
the  stanza  beginning  "  No  ritual  pomp  is  here,"  and  the 
one  following,  because  they  remind  the  reader  of  Horace 
Smith's  Ili/mn  to  the  Flowers,  as  you  will  see,  if  you  read 
the  two  together. 

I  write  you  tliis  from  the  seaside,  where  your  paintings 
of  "Norman's  Woe"  and  the  "Coast  of  Acadia"  adorn 
the  parlor  walls,  with  other  sea  views  by  other  hands. 

Thanking  you  in  advance  for  your  book  ou  the  "Japan- 
ese in  America,"  I  am,  my  dear  sir, 

Yours  truly, 

Henry  W.  Longfellow. 

In  December,  1872,  I  sent  the  poet  a  small  picture  exe- 
cuted by  a  Japanese  youth,  which  he  acknowledged  with 
great  kindness,  wishing  the  young  artist  all  prosperity. 

During  the    sunnner   of    1873,  while    spending   a   few 
weeks  at   Indian  Hill,   in  Massachusetts,   the  delightful 
residence  of  Ben  :  Terley  Toore,  it  was  again  my  privileo-e 
to  meet   Mr.    Longfellow.      He   had   come   down    from 
Nahant,  with  his  friend  Charles  Sunnier,  for  the  purpose 
of  visiting,  for  the  first  time,  the  Longfellow  homestead 
in  Newbury.     After  that  visit  he  came  by  invitation,  with 
the  senator,  to  Indian  Hill,  where  they  enjoved  an  early 
(In.iH.r  and  a  bit  of  old  wine,  after  which  Mr.  Poore  took   " 
us  all  m  his  carriage  on  a  visit  to  the  poet,  John  G .  Whit-  ^ 
tier,  at  Amesbury.     The  day  was  charming,  the  route  we 
toUowed  was  down  the  Merrimack  and  verv  lovely,  and 
the  conversation  of   the   lions  was  of  course  delightful. 


34 


lIArilAZAUi)    PEUSONALITIE!). 


We  found  Mr.  Whittier  at  home,  jind  it  was  not  only  a 
great  treat  to  see  him  there,  ])ut  a  noted  event  to  meet 
soeiall}-  and  under  one  roof  three  sucli  men  as  AVhittier, 
Sumner,  and  Longfellow.  The  deportment  of  the  two 
poets  was,  to  me,  most  eaptivatinjjj.  The  host,  in  his 
simple  dress,  was  as  shy  as  a  school-hoy  while  iNIr.  Long- 
fellow, with  his  white  and  flowing  hair,  and  jolly  laughter, 
reminded  me  of  one  of  his  own  vikings  ;  and  when  ]\L'. 
Whittier  brought  out  and  exhibited  to  us  an  anti-slavery 
document  which  he  had  signed  forty  years  before,  1  could 
not  help  recalling  some  of  the  splendid  things  which  that 
trio  of  great  men  had  writt 'L  on  the  subject  of  slavery. 
The  drive  to  Newburyport,  whence  IMr.  Sunnier  and  ISIr. 
Longfellow  were  to  return  to  Naliant,  was  not  less 
delightful  than  had  been  the  preceding  one ;  and  the 
kindly  words  which  were  spoken  of  Mr.  Whittier  proved 
that  he  was  highly  honored  and  loved  b3'his  noted  friends, 
as  he  is  by  the  world  at  large.  Befor^^  parting  from  INIr 
Longfellow,  he  took  me  one  side  and  spoke  with  great 
interest  of  the  old  homestead  he  had  that  morning  visited, 
and  expressed  a  wish  that  I  should  make  a  sketch  of  it 
for  him,  as  it  was  then  two  hundred  years  old  and  rapidly 
goinix  to  decav.  On  the  folio  win":  morning  I  went  to  the 
spot  and  complied  with  his  request ;  a  few  weeks  after- 
ward I  sent  him  a  finished  picture  of  the  house,  not  for- 
getting the  well-sweep  and  the  old  stone  horse-block,  in 
which  he  felt  a  special  interest ;  and  he  acknowledged  the 
receipt  of  the  picture  in  these  words :  — 


4 


Cambridge,  Oct.  18, 1873. 
My  dear  Sir,  —  I  have  had  the  pleasure  of  receiving  your 
very  friendly  note,  and  the  picture  of  the  old  homestead 
at  Newbury,  for  both  of  which  I  pray  you  to  accept  my 


II EN UY  W.    L(»NGFKLh()W. 


35 


ot  only  a 
t  to  meet 
AVliittier, 
tlie   two 
it,  in   Ills 
[r.   Lon^r- 
huighter, 
vlieti  ]Mr. 
ti-slavery 
I,  1  could 
liicli  tliat 
slavery, 
and  ]\Ir. 
not    less 
and   the 
11*  proved 
I  friends, 
rom  Mr 
itli  great 
^  visited, 
tell  of  it 
1  rapidly 
it  to  tlie 
vs  after- 
iiot  for- 
elock, ill 
Iged  the 


,  1S73. 
ing  vour 
mestead 
Ljept  my 


most  cordial  thanks.  Bo  assured  that  I  value  your  gift 
liiglily,  and  api)reciato  the  kindness  which  proniplcd  it, 
jind  the  troulele  you  to(jk  in  making  the  portraith  of  the 
old  house  nnd  tree.  They  are  very  exact,  and  will  alwavs 
remind  me  of  that  pleasant  summer  day  and  Mr.  I'oori''s 
chateau  and  his  charming  fjimily  nnd  yours.  If  tilings 
could  ever  l)e  done  twice  over  in  this  world,  which  they 
cannot,  I  should  like  to  live  that  day  over  iigaiii. 

AVitli  kind  regards  to  Mrs.  Lanmnn,  not  forgetting  a 
word  and  a  kiss  to  your  little  »Ia[)aiiese  ward  (Uine  Tsuda), 
I  am,  my  dear  sir,  vours  truly, 

IlENllY  AV.   LOXUFELLOW. 

In  the  letter  which  I  sent  to  the  j)oet  with  my  picture, 
after  giving  him  certain  particular,  1  added  the  follow- 
ing :  — 

'^When  the  builders  of  that  house  were  designing  its 
fair  proportions,  little  did  they  think  that  it  would  be  the 
destiny  of  one  of  their  posterity  to  make  their  family 
name  one  of  rare  honor  throughout  the  world. 

''  With  regard  to  that  visit  to  the  home  of  AVhittier,  it 
will  '  live'  in  my  memory  with  the  Voices  of  the  Nighty  the 
Briikd  of  Pennacooks  and  a  certain  clarion  voice  which  has 
often  l)eeii  heard  in  the  Senate.  To  have  seen  three  intel- 
lectual giants,  w'itli  their  armor  off,  under  one  roof,  as  I 
(lid  at  Amesbury,  was  never  equalled  in  my  experience 
excepting  once,  and  that  was  when  I  saw  AVebster,  Irving, 
and  Bryant  dining  together  in  New  York,  ever  so  many 
years  ao-o." 

One  of  the  most  charming  traits  in  Mr.  Longfellow's 
character  was  his  love  for  children  ;  and  the  child  of  the 
Orient,  mentioned  in  his  letter,  whom  he  met  at  Indian 
Hill,  will  never  forget  the  many  pleasant  things  he  said  to 


86 


HAPIIAZAIII)    I'KUSONALITIKS. 


her  as  he  held  her  on  lii.s  lap  and  playod  with  lior  lonjjf 
black  hair.  And  when,  a  few  years  afterwards,  lie  was 
inlonued  that  his  little  friend  was  a  great  admirer  of  his 
writings,  and  eonld  memorize  a  lunnher  of  his  poems,  he 
prol)al)ly  beeame  a  more  devoted  child-lover  than  before. 
Hemembering,  with  rare  pleasnre,  nuich  of  the  conver- 
sation which  })assed  between  the  poet  and  the  statesman, 
on  tlu!  occasion  alluded  to  above,  the;  Good-nifflit  sonnet, 
which  the  former  published  in  1H7."),  in  allusion  to  his 
departed  friend,  impressed  nie  as  woudcrfully  beautiful 
and  affecting :  — 


♦•  Kivcr,  that  stealest  with  sncli  silent  pace 
Around  the  City  of  the  Dead,  where  lies 
A  friend  who  bon;  thy  nanus  and  whom  these  eyes 

8hall  see  no  more  in  his  aeenstonied  place, 

Linger  and  fold  him  in  thy  soft  embrace, 

Anil  say  good-night,  for  now  tlu;  western  s]<ies 
Are  red  with  sunset,  and  gray  mists  arise 

Like  damps  that  gather  on  a  dead  man's  face. 

Good- ni  Jill  t !  goodnight!  as  we  so  oft  have  said 
Beneath  this  roof  at  niidniglit  in  tlie  days 
Tliat  are  no  more  and  shall  no  niore  return. 

Thou  hast  but  tixkvn  tliy  lamp  and  gone  to  lied; 
I  stay  a  little  lonucr,  as  one  stays 
To  cover  up  the  embers  that  still  burn." 


When  the  poem  of  Keramos  was  publislied,  in  Novem- 
ber, 1877,  I  had  a  translation  made  into  Japanese,  of  that 
portion  of  it  alluding  to  .Japan,  and  forwarded  it  to  the 
poet  with  an  explanation  as  to  how  the  transformation 
had  taken  place :  the  young  gentleman  who  made  the 
translation  having  been  Mr.  Amano  Koziro,  of  the  Japan- 
ese Legation.  The  acknowledgment  sent  me  by  Mv. 
Longfellow  was  as  follows  :  — 


IIENIir   W.    L()N(iKKM,(>W. 


37 


Jiipaii- 


CA3inini)()K,  Nov.  2:5,  1S77. 

Nil  dear  Sir,  —  I  have  this  inonrmijj  liiid  tlio  i)U':iHur('  of 
rccoiviiiji;  your  k'tU-r  niid  the  Jiipancse  verHiou  of  a  por- 
tion of  Kcnimosy  wliicli  you  were  kind  enouj^h  to  send  inc, 
Mud  for  which  1  hv<T  you  to  accept  my  cordial  thanks.  I 
shall  put  it  away  with  Tlw  Psalm  of  Life,  written  in 
Chinese  on  a  fan.  Wiiat  I  should  liive  now  ia  u  literal 
retriinslation  of  the  Japanese  into  En<2;lish. 

Jn  the  introduction  there  ia  a  slight  error  wliich  is  worth 
correcting!:.  It  is  the  Poet,  not  the  Potter,  who  takes  the 
aerial  lliiihts,  and  in  iniaginatit)n  visits  far-otT  lands ; 
also.  lu'i-idiios  is  rather  potter's  earth  than  earthenware. 
I)Ut  the  difference  is  slight  and  htirdly  worth  noticing-, 
unless  one  wishes  to  be  very  particular, 

Vou  will  rejoice,  as  I  do,  in  the  complete  vindication  of 
Sunuier's  memory  from  the  imputations  so  recklessly  cast 
upon  it.     With  great  regard. 

Yours  very  truly, 

IIenky  ^V.  L()ngfi:llow. 

AVhen,  in  1870,  it  was  announced  that  IMr.  Longfellow's 
puhllshers  were  preparing  a  new  edition  of  his  works,  to 
be  extensively  illustrated,  1  had  some  correspondence  with 
him,  commenced  by  himself,  in  regard  to  illustrations. 
I  first  suggested  one  of  my  pictures  representing  the 
schooner  "  Hesperus"  driving  on  the  rocks  of  Norman's 
AN'oe  (the  original  picture  of  which  was  already  in  his 
possession),  and  he  replied  as  follows:  "Mr.  Osgood 
tells  me  that  the  pages  containing  The  Wreck  of  the 
Hesperus  are  already  printed ;  but  he  would  like  to  see 
your  illustration  of  "  Daybreak,"  if  convenient  for  you  to 
send  it.  In  due  time,  I  not  only  sent  him  the  original 
picture  of  "Daybreak,"  but  with  it  a  photograph  from  a 


38 


IIAriFAZAUD    TEKSONALITIES. 


M' 


,:a   ji! 


1      '    ■] 

''i 

i 

i 

i; 

picture  of  Fusiyama,  which  I  had  painted  for  the  Japan- 
ese governnient,  and  which  I  thoiiglit  ,v'f)uld  suit  a  pas- 
sage in  Kera7nos.  In  answer  to  niv  letter  transmittinir  the 
pictures,  I  received  tiie  following  :  — 

Cambridge,  April  18, 1871). 

My  dear  iSir, — How  very  kind  and  generous  you  are 
to  send  me  these  beautiful  pictures  !  Be  assured  that  I 
value  them  higlily  and  thank  you  very  cordially. 

"Fuslyiima"  I  have  sent  at  once  to  Mv.  Oscrood.  Jt 
will  make  an  excellent  illustration  of  Kcnimos,  and  I 
ho})e  he  has  not  already  had  anything  engraved  on  the 
subject. 

The  other  painting,  "Daybreak,"  I  shall  take  to  hira  as 
soon  as  1  can  go  to  town. 

One  or  both  I  hope  he  will  be  able  to  use.  Mv  only 
fear  is  that  he  may  be  ninvillin<^  to  use  anything  not  made 
ex})ressly  for  the  work.  IMeanwhile,  accept,  1  pray  you, 
my  sincere  acknowledgments  for  your  kindness,  and  ])e- 
lieve  me,  Yours  faithfully, 

IIexky  W.  Longfellow. 

In  due  time  the  illustrated  edition  of  INfr.  Lon";fellow's 
poems  was  fully  published,  and  the  reader  can  imagine 
m}'^  surprise  to  iind  on  the  page,  where  my  picture  of  Fusi- 
yama should  have  been,  a  kind  of  tea-tray  concern,  whicii 
was  pronounced  simply  ridiculous  by  several  well-informed 
gentlemen.  Of  coursi',  I  reported  my  surprise  and  dis- 
ap[)()intinent  to  the  poet,  and  to  my  note  I  received  the 

following  replies  :  — 

Cambridge,  (Vl.  <i,  1880. 

3fy  dear  Sir,  —  This  is  all  a  m} stery  to  me.    I  have  been 

away  from  houje  foi  the  last  three  months,  and  have  not 

known  what  was  done  or  left  undone  in  the  way  of  illus- 


HENRY  W.   LONGFELLOW. 


89 


fcrations.  But  T  am  quite  sure  that  Mr.  Osgood  has  had 
nothing  to  do  with  them,  as  he  left  the  firm  six  months 
ago,  or  more. 

I  will  ask  INIr.  Anthony,  who  has  charge  of  the  illustra- 
tions, how  this  has  happened. 

Yours  faithfully, 

Henry  W.  Longfellow. 


Cambridge,  Oct.  23, 1880. 
Dear  Mr.  Lanman,  — I  wrote  at  once  to  Mr.  Anthony, 
wlio  liad  sole  charge  of  the  illustrations,  and  enclose  his 
answer:  ''Mr.  Lanman's  photograph  was  burnt  in  the 
Devonshire  Street  fire  ;  and  though  I  hunted  the  town,  I 
failed  to  procure  a  duplicate  ;  so  Mr.  INIoran  made  the  draw- 
ings from  other  authorities.  Your  pen-and-ink  drawing 
of  the  Castle  at  Ischia  was  also  lost  in  the  same  fire.  But 
for  this,  both  gentlemen  would  have  received  credit."  If 
instead  of  "  hunting  the  town,"  he  had  written  to  you  or 
to  me,  this  mistake  might  have  been  avoided.  Now  there 
is  no  remedy  ;  and  1  beg  you  to  believe  that  no  one  regrets 
it  more  than  I  do.     I  write  in  great  haste,  but  am  as  ever. 

Faithfully  yours, 

Henry  ^Y.  Longfellow. 

The  only  comment  that  I  have  to  make  on  the  above 
is,  that  I  am  surprised  this  Boston  engraver  did  not  go 
to  the  North  Pole  and  do  a  little  hunting  there  for  a  stock 
of  cool  common-sense.  Of  course,  with  my  great  admira- 
tion for  Mr.  Longf'jilow,  it  would  have  gratified  me  to  see 
one  of  my  pictures  wedded  to  a  fragment  of  his  poetry. 

In  November,  1881,  when  my  work  entitled  "Curious 
Charactei's  and  Pleasant  Places  "  was  published  in  Edin- 
burgh, because  of  the  fact  that  it  contained  a  chapter  on 


40 


HAPHAZARD    PERSOTJALITIES. 


Anticosti,  where  Mr.  Longfellow's  first  American  ancestor 
lost  his  life  (he  who  had  built  the  Newbury  homestead), 
I  sent  him  a  copy ;  and  in  my  note  I  asked  him  for  his 
views  on  the  propriety  of  printing  the  private  letters  of 
living  men  without  tlieir  consent.  I  had  noticed  in  Barry 
Cornwall's  "Autobiography"  several  of  Mr.  Longfellow's 
own  letters,  and  as  I  was  then  examining  the  very  inter- 
esting correspondence  of  the  late  Professor  Sanuiel  Tyler, 
with  a  view  to  publication,  I  desired  to  be  fortified  with 
the  poet's  opinion,  and  the  result  of  my  application  was 
as  follows :  — 

Cambridge,  Dec.  3, 1881.  * 

Dear  Mr.  Lanmmi,  — 1  was  very  glad  to  get  your  letter 
and  the  copy  of  your  "  Recollections."  It  Is  a  handsome 
volume  and  most  inviting  in  appearance.  I  shall  read  it 
with  the  greatest  interest  as  soon  as  I  am  able  to  read 
anything,  but  at  present  I  am  confined  to  my  room  by  ill- 
ness, —  a  trouble  in  the  head  which  prevents  continuous 
attention  to  anything.  I  hope  this  will  soon  pass  away 
and  all  be  right  again. 

The  publication  of  private  letters  of  living  persons  is 
certainly  a  delicate  question.  It  is,  however,  universally 
practised  in  biographies.  One  nuist  be  guided  by  the 
importance  of  the  letters  themselves.  I  should  omit 
everything  that  could  in  any  way  compromise  the  writer, 
as  I  see  by  your  letter,  you  would.  There  are  letters  that 
do  honor  to  the  writer  and  the  receiver ;  these  certainly 
should  not  be  omitted. 

IMeanwhile,  accept  my  sincere  and  corditd  thanks  for 
your  kind  remembrance,  and  believe  me,    — — "~ 

Yours  faithfully, 

Henry  W.  Longfe  .low. 


JOSEPH   GALES   ANT)    WILLIAM   W.    SEATON. 


41 


ancestor 
Bstead) , 
I  for  his 
!tters  of 
1  Barry 
fellow's 
y  iiiter- 
i  Tylor, 
ed  with 
ion  was 

ISSl.  • 

ir  letter 
iiclsonie 
read  it 
to  read 
by  ill- 
imioiis 
s  away 

5ons  is 
ersallv 
»y  the 
omit 
ivriter, 
■«  tliat 
taiiily 

vs  for 


M 


OW, 


From  the  time  when  the  foregoing  letter  was  written 
with  its  touching  allusion  to  his  illness,  it  became  appar- 
ent to  Mr.  Longfellow's  friends  that  his  health  was  begin- 
ning to  decline ;  and  on  the  24th  of  March  the  start- 
ling information  was  flashed  over  the  telegraphic  wires,  to 
every  corner  of  his  native  land  and  of  Europe,  that  he  had 
died  at  his  home  in  Cambridge,  in  the  seventy-sixth  year 
of  his  age.  To  paraphrase  a  sentiment  from  Homer,  we 
may  say  of  him  that  the  fame  of  his  beauteous  song  shall 
never  be  forgotten. 

'J'he  poet's  father,  Stephen  Longfellow,  was  a  lawyer 
and  statesman  of  superior  abilities  and  intluence,  and  the 
former  left  a  sou,  Ernest  W.  Longfellow,  who  ranks  high 
as  a  landscape  painter. 

JOSEPH   GALES   AND    WILLIAM   W.  SEATON. 

My  acquaintance  with  these  noted  men  began  in  1847, 
when  1  published  a  series  of  Canadian  letters  in  their 
jou/nal.  When  I  first  visited  AV^ashington  City  in  1848, 
my  intention  was  to  remain  only  about  a  week,  but  cir- 
cumstances which  I  did  not  wish  to  control  comi)elled  me 
to  reside  there  permanently,  and  to  become  a  regular  con- 
tributor to  the  National  hitelUgencer ;  and  one  of  the  re- 
sults of  mv  intimncv  with  its  editors  was  the  following 
pai)er,  printed  in  the  "  Atlantic  Monthly,"  while  they  were 
still  living. 

The  families  of  Gales  and  Seaton  are,  in  their  origin, 
Scotch  and  Knglish.  The  Seatons  are  of  that  historic  race, 
a  daughter  of  which  (the  fair  and  faithful  Catherine)  is  the 
heroine  of  one  of  Sir  Walter  Scott's  romances.  It  was  to 
be  supposed  that  they  whose  lineage  looked  to  such  an  in- 
stance of  devoted  personal  affection  for  the  ancient  line 


42 


HAPHAZARD   TERSONALTTIES. 


1* '■ 


would  not  slacken  in  their  loyalty  when  fresh  calamities 
fell  npon  the  Stuarts  and  again  upset  their  throne.  Ac- 
cordingly, the  Seatons  appear  to  have  clung  to  the  cause 
of  their  exiled  king  with  fidelity.  Henry  Seaton  seems 
to  have  made  himself  especially  obnoxious  to  the  new 
monarch,  by  taking  part  in  those  Jacobite  schemes  of  re- 
bellion which  were  so  long  kept  on  foot  by  the  lieges  and 
gentlemen  of  Scotland;  sc  that,  when,  towards  the  close 
of  the  seventeenth  century,  the  cause  he  loved  grew  des- 
perate, and  Scotland  itself  anything  but  safe  for  a  large 
body  of  her  most  gallant  men,  he  was  forced,  like  all  oth- 
ers that  scorned  to  submit,  to  fly  beyond  the  seas.  Doing 
so,  it  was  natural  that  he  should  choose  to  take  refuge  in 
a  Britain  bevond  the  ocean,  where  a  brotherlv  welcome 
among  his  kindred  awaited  the  political  proscript.  It  is 
pn^bable,  however,  that  a  special  sympathy  towards  that 
region  which,  by  its  former  fidelity  to  the  Stuarts,  had 
earned  from  them  the  royal  quartering  of  its  arms  and  the 
title  of  "The  Ancient  Dominion,"  directed  his  final  choice. 
At  any  rate,  it  was  to  Virginia  that  he  came  ;  settling 
there,  as  a  planter,  first  in  the  county  of  Gloucester,  and 
afterwards  in  that  of  King  William.  From  one  of  his 
descendants  in  a  right  line  sprang  (b}^  intermarringe  with 
a  lady  of  English  family,  the  AVinstons)  Willinm  AVinston 
Seaton,  the  editor,  whose  mother  connected  him  with  a 
second  Scotch  family,  the  Henrys,  —  the  mother  of  Pat- 
rick Ilenrv  being  a  AVinston.  These  last  had  come,  some 
three  uenerations  before,  from  the  old  seat  of  that  familv 
in  its  knightly  times,  AVinston  Hall,  in  Yorkshire,  and  had 
settled  in  the  countv  of  Hanover,  where  good  estates  gave 
them  rank  among  the  gentry  ;  while  commanding  stature, 
the  gift  of  an  equally  remarkable  personal  beauty,  a  very 
winning  address,  good  parts,  high  character,  and  the  fre- 


JOSEPH   GALES   AND   WILLIAM   W.    SEATON. 


4a 


quont  possession  among  them  of  a  fine  natural  eloquence, 
gave  them  as  a  race  an  equal  influence  over  the  body  of 
tlio  jx'ople.  In  William  (popularly  called  Langaloo)  and 
his  sister  Sarah,  the  mother  of  Patrick  Henry,  these  hered- 
itnry  qualities  seem  to  have  been  particularly  striking  ;  so 
tliat,  in  tlieir  day,  it  seemed  a  sort  of  received  opinion  that 
it  Avas  from  the  maternal  side  that  the  great  orator  derived 
his  extraordinary  powers. 

The  (laleses  are  of  nmch  more  recent  naturalization 
amongst  us,  — later  by  just  about  a  century  than  tliat  of 
the  Seatons,  but  alike  in  its  causes.  For  they,  too,  were 
driven  hither  by  governmental  resentment.  Their  founder 
(as  he  may  be  called),  the  elder  Josei)h  Gales,  was  one  of 
those  rare  men  who  at  times  spring  up  from  tlie  body  of 
the  peoi)le,  and  by  mere  unassisted  merit,  apart  from  all 
adventitious  circumstances,  make  their  way  to  a  just  dis- 
tinction. Perhaps  no  better  idea  of  him  can  be  given  than 
by  likening  him  to  one,  less  hai)py  in  his  death,  whom 
science  is  now  evervwhere  lamentini2;,  —  the  late  admir:d)le 
Hugh  ^Filler.  A  different  career,  rather  than  an  inferior 
cliaracter,  made  Joseph  Gales  less  conspicuous.  He  was 
born  in  ITCl,  at  Eekington,  rear  the  English  town  of 
Shefheld.  The  condition  of  his  family  was  above  depend- 
ence, l»ut  not  frugality. 

Be  education  what  else  it  may,  there  is  one  sort  which 
never  f tills  to  work  well,  namely,  that  which  a  strong 
cai)acity,  when  denied  the  usual  ai'tificial  helps,  shapes  out 
to  its  own  advantage.  Such,  with  little  and  poor  assist- 
ance, became  that  of  Joseph  Gales,  obtained  progressively, 
as  best  it  could  be,  ni  the  short  intervals  which  the  body 
can  allow  to  be  stolen  between  labor  and  nect'ssary  rest. 
Now  the  writer  is  convinced,  that,  after  this  Itoy  liad 
worked  hard  all  the  day  long,  he  never  would  have  sat 


..  Jif 


5* 


44 


HAPHAZARD   PERSONALITIES. 


le  i 


:|i 


down  to  study  half  the  night  through,  if  it  had  not  been  a 
pleasure  to  him.  In  short,  no  sort  of  toil  went  hard  with 
him ;  for  he  was  a  fine,  manly  youngster,  cheerful  and 
stalwart,  one  who  never  slunk  from  what  he  had  set  about, 
nor  turned  his  back  except  upon  what  was  dishonest.  He 
wrought  lightsomely,  and  even  lustily,  at  his  coarser  pur- 
suits ;  for  in  that  sturdy  household,  to  work  had  long  been 
held  a  duty. 

Thus  improving  himself  at  odd  hours,  until  he  wr.s  fit 
for  the  vocation  of  a  printer,  and  looked  upon  by  the  vil- 
lage as  a  genius,  our  youth  went  to  IVIanchester,  and 
applied  himself  to  that  art,  not  only  for  itself,  but  as  the 
surest  means  of  further  knowledge.  Of  course  he  ])ecame 
a  master  in  the  craft.  At  length,  returning  to  his  own 
toAvn  to  exercise  it,  he  grew,  by  his  industry  and  good  con- 
duct, into  a  condition  to  exercise  it  on  his  own  account, 
and  set  up  a  newspaper,  the  Sheffield  Register. 

Born  of  the  people,  it  was  natural  that  Joseph  Gales 
should  in  his  journal  side  with  the  Keformers,  and  he  did 
so :  but  with  that  unvarying  moderation  which  his  good 
sense  and  probity  of  purpose  taught  him,  and  which  he 
ever  after  through  life  preserved.  He  kept  within  the 
right  limits  of  whatever  doctrine  he  em])raced,  and  held  a 
measure  in  all  his  political  principles  ;  knowing  that  the 
best,  in  common  with  the  worst,  tend,  by  a  law  of  all  party, 
to  exaggeration  and  extremes.  Beyond  this  temperateness 
of  mind  nothing  could  move  him.  Thus  guarded,  bv  a 
rare  ecpiity  of  the  understanding,  from  excess  as  to  meas- 
ures, he  was  equally  guarded  by  a  charity  and  a  gentleness 
of  heart  the  most  exhaustless.  In  a  word,  it  may  safely 
be  said  of  him,  that  amidst  all  the  heats  of  faction,  he 
never  fell  into  violence  ;  amidst  all  the  asperities  of  pub- 
lic life,  never  stooped  to  personalities ;  and  in  all  that  he 


mLL 


JOSEPH   GALES    \ND   WILLIAM  W.    SEATOK. 


45 


wrote,  left  scjireely  au  unwise  and  not  a  single  dislionest 
sentence  behind  him. 

Such  qualities,  tlioughnot  the  most  forward  to  set  them- 
selves forth  to  the  public  attention,  sliould  surely  bring 
success  to  an  editor.  Tlie  well-judging  were  soon  ph'ased 
with  tlie  plain  good  sense,  tlie  general  intelligence,  the 
modesty,  and  tlie  invariable  rectitude  of  the  young  man. 
Their  suffrage  gained,  that  of  the  rest  began  to  follow. 
For  iu  truth,  there  are  few  things  of  which  the  light  is  less 
to  be  hid  than  that  of  a  good  newspaper.  The  Jicglstsr^ 
by  degrees,  won  a  general  esteem  and  began  to  pros- 
per. And  as,  according  to  the  discovery  of  Malthus, 
prosperity  is  fond  of  pairing,  it  soon  happened  that  our 
printer  went  to  falling  in  love.  Naturally  again,  being  a 
printer,  he,  from  a  regard  for  the  eternal  fitness  of  things, 
fell  in  love  with  an  authoress. 

This  was  Miss  Winifred  Marshall,  a  young  lady  of  the 
town  of  Newark,  wdio  to  an  agreeable  person,  good  con- 
nections, and  advantages  of  education,  joined  a  literary 
talent  that  had  already  won  no  little  approval,  vShe  wrote 
verse,  and  published  several  novels  of  the  "  INIinerva 
Tress"  order  (such  as  "  Lady  Emma  Melcombe  and  her 
Family,"  "Matilda  Berkley,"  etc.),  of  which  only  the 
names  survive. 

Despite  the  poetic  adage  about  the  course  of  true  love, 
that  of  Joseph  CJales  ran  smooth  ;  INIiss  Marshall  accepted 
his  suit  and  they  were  married.  Never  were  husband  and 
wife  better  mated.  They  lived  together  most  happily  and 
long  ;  she  dying,  at  an  advanced  age,  o*nly  two  years  be- 
fore him.  Meantime  she  had,  from  the  first,  brought  him 
some  marriage  portion  beyond  that  which  the  Muses  are 
wont  to  give  with  their  daughters, —  namely,  laurels  and 
bays ;  uud  she  bore  him  three  sons  and  five  daughters, 


46 


HAPITAZAUn    PEUSONALTTIES. 


noar  li:ilf  of  whom  the  i)iireiits  survived.  Thive  (Josepli 
the  younger,  Winifred,  and  Sarah,  now  Mrs.  Seaton)  were 
born  in  Enghmd  ;  a  fourth  at  tlie  town  of  Altona  (near 
IIain])urg),  from  which  she  was  named,  and  the  rest  in 
America. 

To  resume  tliis  story  in  the  order  of  events.  INIr.  Gales 
went  on  with  his  journal,  and  when  it  had  grown  quite 
flourisliing,  he  added  to  his  printing-oiiice  tlie  inviting  ap- 
pendage of  a  bookstore,  wliich  also  flourished.  In  the 
progress  of  both,  it  became  necessary  that  lie  should  em- 
pl(jy  a  clerk.  Among  the  applicants  brought  to  him  by  an 
advertisement  of  what  he  needed,  there  presented  himself 
an  unfriended  youth,  with  whose  intelligence,  modesty, 
and  other  signs  of  the  future  man  within,  he  was  so 
pleased  that  he  at  once  took  him  into  his  employment ; 
at  lirst,  merely  to  keep  his  accounts,  ])ut  ])y  degrees, 
for  superior  things,  until,  progressively,  he  (the  3'outli) 
matured  into  his  assistant  editor,  his  dearest  friend,  and 
finally  his  successor  in  the  journal.  That  youth  was  James 
Montgomery,  the  poet. 

On  tlie  lOth  of  April,  1786,  Mrs.  Gales  gave  ])irth,  at 
P^ckington,  their  rural  home,  to  her  lirst  child,  Joseph,  the 
present  chief  (1800)  of  the  Intfllif/eitcer.  Happy  at 
home,  the  young  mother  could  as  delightedly  look  without. 
The  business  of  her  husband  throve  apace  ;  nor  less  the 
general  regard  and  esteem  in  which  he  was  personally  held. 
lie  grew  continually  in  the  confidence  and  affection  of  his 
fellow-citizens  ;  endearing  himself  especially,  by  his  sober 
counsels  and  his  qiiiet charities,  to  all  that  industrious  class 
who  knew  him  as  one  of  their  own,  and  could  look  up 
without  reluctance  to  a  superiority  which  was  only  the  un- 
pretending one  of  goodness  and  sense.  Over  them,  with- 
out seeking   it,  he  gradually  obtained   au   extraordinary 


JOSEPH    GALES    AND    WILLIAM    W.    SKAToN. 


47 


(Jo»opli 

)n)  were 

i!i  (near 

rest  ill 

r.  (uiles 
II  quite 

tin<r  ;ip- 

in  tlie 
lid  em- 
11  l)v  an 
Jiiniself 
odestv, 
was    so 
yment ; 
e_<>rees, 
you  til) 
id,  and 
'<  James 


ascendency,  of  which  the  following  is  a  single  instance : 
Upon  some  occasion  of  wages  or  want  among  the  working 
l)eople  of  SliefTield,  a  great  popular  commotion  had  burst 
out,  attended  ])y  a  huge  inol)  and  riot,  which  the  magis- 
tracy strove  in  vain  to  ai)[)ease  or  (piell.  When  all  else 
hud  failed,  Mr.  Gales  bethought  him  of  trying  what  he 
could  do.  Driven  into  the  thick  of  the  crowd,  in  an  open 
carriiige,  he  suddenly  appeared  amongst  the  rioters,  and, 
by  a  few  plain  words  of  remonstrance,  convinced  them  that 
they  could  only  hurt  themselves  by  overturning  the  laws, 
that  they  should  seek  other  modes  of  redress,  and  mean- 
time had  all  better  go  home.  They  agreed  to  do  so,  but 
with  the  condition  annexed,  that  they  should  llrst  see  him 
home.  Whereupon,  loosening  the  horses  from  the  carriage, 
they  drew  him,  with  loud  acclamations,  back  to  liis  liouse. 

Such  were  his  prospects  and  position  for  some  seven 
years  after  his  marriage,  when,  of  a  sudden,  without  any 
fault  of  his  own,  he  was  made  answerable  for  a  fact  that 
rendered  it  necessary  for  him  to  flee  beyond  the  realm  of 
Great  Britain. 

As  a  friend  to  Reform,  he  had,  in  his  journal,  at  first 
sup})()rted  Pitt's  ministry,  which  had  set  out  on  the  same 
principle,  but  which,  when  the  revolutionary  movement  in 
France  threatened  to  overthrow  nil  government,  a])an- 
doned  all  Reform,  as  a  thing  not  then  safe  to  set  about. 
From  this  change  of  views  Mr.  Gales  dissented,  and  still 
advocated  Reform.  So,  again,  as  to  the  French  Revolu- 
tion, not  yet  arrived  at  the  atrocities  which  it  speedily 
reached,  he  saw  no  need  of  making  war  upon  it.  In  its 
outset,  he  had,  along  with  Fox  and  other  Liberals,  ap- 
plauded it ;  for  it  then  professed  little  but  what  Liberals 
wished  to  see  brought  about  in  p]ngland.  He  still  thought 
it  good   for  France,  though  not  for  his  own   country. 


i.i 


U 


i 

i 


4fi 


IIAniAZAUD    PERSON ALITIES. 


II 


Thus,  moderate  as  he  was,  he  was  counted  in  the  opposi- 
tion and  jealously  watclied. 

It  was  in  the  autumn  of  1792,  while  he  was  jrone  upon 
a  journey  of  business,  that  a  king's  messenger,  beiiring  a 
Secretary  of  State's  warrant  for  the  seizure  of  Mr.  (J ale's 
person,  presented  himself  at  his  house  For  this  proceed- 
ing against  him  the  following  facts  had  given  occasion. 
In  his  ollice  was  employed  a  printer  named  Richard  Davi- 
son,—  a  very  quick,  capable,  useful  man,  and  therefore 
nmch  trusted, — but  a  little  wild,  withal,  at  once  with 
French  i)rinciples  and  religion,  with  conventicles,  and 
those  sedi'ious  clubs  that  were  tlien  secretly  organized  all 
over  the  it- land.  This  person  corresponded  with  a  central 
club  in  J.'}  idon,  and  had  been  rash  enough  to  write  them, 
just  then,  an  insurrectionary  letter,  setting  forth  revolu- 
tionary plans,  the  numbers,  the  means  they  could  com- 
mand, the  supplies  of  arms,  etc.,  that  they  were  forming. 
This  sage  epistle  was  betrayed  into  the  hands  of  the  gov- 
ernment. The  discreet  Dick  they  might  very  well  have 
hanged  ;  but  that  was  not  worth  while.  From  his  connec- 
tion with  the  Register^  they  supposed  him  to  be  only  the 
agent  and  cover  for  a  deeper  man, — its  proprietor;  and 
at  the  latter  only,  therefore,  had  they  struck.  Nothing 
saved  him  from  the  blow,  except  the  casual  fact  of  liis 
a])sence  in  another  county,  and  their  being  ignorant  of 
the  route  he  had  taken.  This  his  friends  alone  knew,  and 
where  to  reach  him.  They  did  so,  at  once,  by  a  courier 
secretly  despatched  ;  and  he,  on  learning  what  awaited 
him  at  home,  instead  of  trusting  to  his  innocence,  chose 
rather  to  trust  the  seas  ;  and,  making  his  way  to  the  coast, 
took  the  only  good  security  for  his  freedom,  by  putting  the 
German  Ocean  between  him  and  pursuit.  He  sailed  for 
Amsterdam,  where  arriving,  he  thence  made  his  way  to 


■ ,  1  j; ".:  '  sfl 


di  lii..^ 


JOSEPH   OALES   AND   WILLIAM   W.    SEATON. 


49 


Hamburg,  at  which  city  he  had  decided  that  liis  family 
slioukl  join  hiin.  To  England  he  conld  return  only  at  the 
cost  of  a  prosecution  ;  and  though  this  would,  of  necessity, 
end  in  an  acquittal,  it  was  almost  sure  to  be  preceded  by 
impiisonment,  while,  together,  they  would  half  ruin  him. 
It  was  plain,  then,  that  he  must  at  once  do  what  he  had 
long  intended  to  do,  —  go  to  America. 

Accordingly,  he  gave  directions  to  his  family  to  come  to 
him,  and  to  Montgomery  that  he  should  dispose  of  all  his 
effects  and  settle  up  all  his  affairs.  Tiiese  otlices  that 
devoted  friend  performed  most  faithfully,  remitting  him 
the  [)roceeds.  The  newspaper  he  himself  l)ought  and  con- 
tinued, under  the  name  of  the  Sheflield  Iris.  Still  re- 
taining his  alfection  for  the  family,  lie  passed  into  the 
household  of  what  was  left  of  them,  and  supplied  to  the 
three  sisters  of  the  elder  Joseph  Gales  the  place  of  a 
l)rother,  and,  wifeless  and  childless,  lived  on  to  a  very  ad- 
vanced age,  content  with  their  society  alone.  The  last  of 
these  dames  died  only  a  few  months  ago. 

At  llaml)urg,  whence  they  were  to  take  ship  for  the 
United  States,  the  family  were  detained  all  the  winter  by 
tlie  delicate  health  of  Mrs.  Gales.  This  delay  her  husband 
l)ut  to  profit,  by  mastering  two  things  likely  to  be  needful 
to  jiim,  —  the  German  tongue  and  the  ai't  of  short-hand. 
Tn  the  spring  they  sailed  for  Philadelphia.  Arrived 
there,  he  sought  and  at  once  obtained  employment  as  a 
printer.  It  was  soon  perceived,  not  only  that  he  w^as  an 
admirable  workman,  but  every  way  a  man  of  umisutd 
merit,  and  able  to  turn  his  hand  to  almost  anything.  By 
and  by,  reporters  of  Congressional  debates  being  few  and 
very  indifferent,  hia,  employer.  Clay  pole,  said  to  him, 
"  You  seem  able  to  do  everything  that  is  wanted :  pray, 
could  you   not  do  these   Congressional    reports   for  us 


!'' 


50 


IIAl'IIAZAUI)    PKU.SONAMTIKS. 


better  than  this  (Iruuken  C'alknuler,  who  p^ives  us  so  much 
trou])le?"  Mr.  (ink's  iv[)liecl,  with  liis  usu:il  modesty, 
that  he  did  uot  know  wliat  he  could  do,  ])ut  tliat  he 
wouhl  try. 

T\ui  next  day  ho  attended  the  sittino;  of  Cong;  and 
brought  away,  in  time  for  tlje  com[K)sit()rs,  a  .litiiful 
transcript  of  sucli  speeches  as  had  been  made.  Appear- 
ing intlie  next  morning's  ])aper,  it  of  course  greatly  aston- 
ished everybody.  It  seemed  a  new  era  in  such  things. 
They  had  hetird  of  the  like  in  Parliament,  ])ut  had  scarcely 
credited  it.  Claypole  liimself  was  the  most  astonished  of 
all.  Seizing  a  copy,  he  ran  around  tlie  town,  sliowing  it 
to  all  he  met,  and  still  hardly  com[)reh('nding  the  wonder 
which  he  himself  h;ul  instigated.  It  need  Imrdlv  be  said 
that  here  was  something  far  more  profitable  for  ]\Ir  Gales 
than  type-setting. 

liut  to  ai)ply  this  skill,  possessed  by  none  else,  .  the 
exclusive  advantage  of  a  journal  of  his  own,  was  yet  more 
inviting ;  and  the  opportunity  soon  offering  itself,  he 
became  the  purchaser  of  the  Iinlcpendimt  Gazetteer^  a 
paper  already  established.  This  he  conducted  with  suc- 
cess until  the  year  1799,  maiving  both  repntation  and 
many  friends.  Amon<>;  the  warmest  of  these  wore  some 
of  the  North  Carolina  members,  and  especially  that  one 
wdiose  name  has  ever  since  stood  as  a  sort  of  proverb  of 
honesty,  Nathaniel  Macon.  By  the  representations  of 
these  friends,  he  wtis  led  to  believe  that  their  new  State 
capital,  Rahngh,  where  there  was  only  a  very  decrepit 
specimen  of  journalism,  would  afford  him  at  once  a  surer 
competence  and  a  happier  life  than  Philadelphia.  Coming 
to  this  conclusion,  he  disposed  of  his  newspaper  and 
printing-ottice,  and  removed  to  Raleigh,  where  he  at 
once  established  the  Register.     Of   his  late   paper,    the 


JOSEPH    GALES    AN1>    WILIJAM    W.    SEATON. 


51 


HO  much 

nodesty, 

tliut  lie 

.'111(1 
-aithful 
Appcnr- 
Y  JiKtoii- 
thinirs. 
H'ui'cely 
sIuhI  of 
)wino-  it 

woiidor 

hv:   HJlid 

OtduH 

the 
't  more 
elf,  he 
'teer^  a 
th  suc- 
ui  {11  id 
3  some 
at  one 
^erb  of 
)ns   of 

State 
icrepit 

surer 
omiuff 
r  and 
he  at 
%    the 


Gazetteer^  we  tshull  soon  follow  ihe  fortunes  to  Washin«j;- 
toM,  where  it  became  the  Int('Ui(jcnrer;  meantime  we 
must  llnisii  wluit  is  left  to  tell  of  his  own. 

At  Raleigh  he  arrived  under  auspices  which  gave  liim 
not  only  a  reputation,  but  friends,  to  set  out  with.  Hotli 
he  so(yii  conlirmcd  and  augmented,  liy  the  constant  merit 
of  his  journal,  its  sober  sense,  its  moderation  and  its  in- 
teiiiitv,  lu!  won  and  invariablv  maintained  the  conlidence 
of  all  on  tiiat  side  of  politics  with  which  he  concurred 
(Ihe  old  Hci)ul)lican),  and  scarcely  less  conciliated  the 
respect  of  his  o})poiients.  lie  (piickly  ol)tain(Ml,  for  his 
skill,  and  not  merely  as  a  i)artisan  rewiird,  the  publie 
printing  of  his  State,  and  retained  it  until,  reaching  the 
ordinary  limit  of  human  life,  he  withdrew  from  the  press. 
In  the  just  and  kindly  old  Commonwealth  which  he  so  long 
served,  it  would  liav<  l)een  hard  for  any  p:irty,  no  matter 
how  much  in  the  asc'  Hhint,  to  move  anything  for  his  in- 
jury. For  the  love  an  esteem,  which  he  had  the  faculty 
of  attracting  from  the  (iist,  dee[)ened,  as  he  advanced  in 
age,  into  an  absolute  reverence  the  most  general  for  his 
character  and  person  ;  and  the  good  North  State  honored 
and  cherished  no  son  of  her  own  loins  more  than  she  did 
Joseph  Gales.  In  Raleigh  there  was  no  figure  that,  as  it 
passed,  was  greeted  so  much  by  the  signs  of  a  peculiar 
veneration  as  that  great,  stalwart  one  of  his,  looking  so 
plain  and  unaff'xvtad,  yet  with  a  sort  of  nobleness  in  its 
very  simplicity,  a  gentleness  in  its  strength,  an  inborn 
goodness  and  courtesy  in  all  its  roughness  of  frame,  — 
his  countenance  mild  and  calm,  yet  commanding,  thought- 
ful, yet  pleasant,  and  betokening  a  bosom  that  no  low 
thought  had  ever  entered.  You  had  in  him,  indeed,  the 
highest  image  of  that  stanch  old  order  from  which  he  was 
sprung,  and  might  have  said,  "Here's  the  soul  of  a  baron 


_.,:-m 


52 


HAPHAZARD    PERSONALITIES. 


i 


!l 


in  the  body  of  a  peasant."     For  lie  really  looked,  when 
well  examined,  like  all  the  virtues  done  in  rough-cast. 

With  him  the  aijfe  of  ne(;essarv  and  of  well-merited 
repose  had  now  come  ;  and  judging  that  he  could  attain  it 
only  }»y  (putting  that  habitual  scene  of  business  where  it 
would  still  solicit  him,  he  transferred  his  newspn[)er,  his 
priMting-oliice,  and  the  bookstore  which  he  had  made  their 
adjunct  in  Kaleigh,  as  in  Shefrield,  to  his  third  son, 
Weston,  and  removed  to  Washington,  in  order  to  pass 
the  close  of  his  days  near  two  of  the  dearest  of  his  chil- 
dren, —  his  son  Joseph  and  his  daughter  Mrs.  Seaton,  — 
fium  whom  he  had  been  separated  the  most. 

Jn  renouncing  all  individual  aims,  INIr.  Gales  fell  not 
into  a  mere  life  of  meditation,  but  sought  its  future  pleas- 
ures in  the  adoption  of  a  scheme  of  benevolence,  to  the 
cnlm  prosecution  of  which  he  might  dedicate  his  declining 
powers,  so  long  as  his  advanced  age  should  permit.  A 
worthy  object  for  such  efforts  he  recognized  in  the  phin  of 
African  colonization,  and  of  its  aftV.irs  he  accei)ted  and 
almost  to  his  death  sustained  the  ma.iagement  in  chief  ; 
achieving  not  less,  by  his  admirable  judgment,  the  warn\ 
ai)proval  and  thanks  (^f  thnt  wldesi)read  association,  than 
by  the  most  amiaV)le  virtues  of  private  life  winning  in 
Washington,  as  he  had  done  everywhere  else,  from  all  thnt 
aj^proached  him,  a  singular  degree  of  deference  and 
affection. 

Hut  the  close  of  this  long  career  of  honoi-  and  of  usefulness 
was  now  at  hand.  In  18o!)  he  lost  the  wife  whose  tender- 
ness had  cheered  the  labors  and  whose  gay  intelligence  had 
brightened  the  leisure  of  his  existence.  She  had  lived  the 
delight  of  that  intimate  society  to  which  she  had  conlined 
faculties  that  would  iiMve  tulorned  any  circle  whatever; 
and  she  died  lamented  in  proportion  by  it,  and  by  the  only 


JOSEPH   GALKS   AND   WILLIAM   W.    SEATON. 


53 


d,  when 

ist. 

■inerited 
!itt;iin  it 
vliere  it 
per,  liis 
lie  their 
:'(i  son, 
to  puss 
is  cliil- 
itoii,  — 

^ell  not 
?  pleas- 

to  the 
dining 
lit.  A 
)l;in  of 
hI  and 

C'liief  ; 

vvnnn 
1,  tluin 
ling  in 

ill  tlijit 
a    ill  1(1 

ulness 
LMidei-- 
L'e  had 
ed  the  - 
nfined 
tever ; 
3  only 


others  to  whom  she  was  much  known,—  the  poor.  Her 
husband  survived  her  but  two  years,  expiring  at  his  son's 
house  in  Kaleigh,  where  he  was  on  a  visit  in  April,  1841, 
at  the  age  of  eightv.  He  died  as  calm  as  a  child,  in  the 
placid  faith  of  a  true  Christian. 

Still  telling  his  storv  in  the  order  of  dates,  the  writer 
would  now  turn  to  the  younger  Joseph  Gales.  As  we  have 
seen,  he  arrived  in  this  country  when  seven  years  old,  and 
went  to  Raleigh  about  six  years  afterwards.  There  he 
was  [)laced  in  a  school,  where  he  made  excellent  progress, 
profiting  by  the  recollections  of  his  earlier  lessons,  received 
from  that  best  of  all  elementary  teachers,  a  mother  of 
Avell-cultivated  mind.  His  boyhood,  as  usual,  prefigui-ed 
the  mature  man  ;  it  was  diligent  in  study,  hilarious  at  play  ; 
his  mind  bent  upon  solid  things,  not  the  showy.  For  all 
good,  just,  generous,  and  kindly  things  he  had  the  warm- 
est imjiulse  and  the  truest  perceptions,  (^uick  to  learn 
and  to  feel,  he  was  slow  only  of  resentment.  Never  was 
man  born  with  more  of  those  lacteals  of  the  heart  which 
secrete  the  milk  of  human  kindness.  Of  the  classic 
tongues  he  can  be  said  to  have  learnt  only  the  Latin  ;  the 
Greek  was  then  little  taught  in  any  part  of  our  country. 
For  the  positive  sciences  he  had  much  inclination  ;  since 
it  is  told,  among  other  things,  that  he  constructed  instru- 
ments for  himself,  such  as  an  electrical  machine,  with  the 
performances  of  which  he  much  amazed  the  people  of 
Raleigh.  Meantime  he  was  forming  at  home,  under  the 
good  guidance  there,  a  solid  knowledge  of  all  those  fine 
old  authors  whose  works  nuide  the  undeo;enerate  literatui'e 
of  our  language  and  then  constituted  what  they  called 
Polite  Letters.  With  these  went  hand  in  hand,  at  tliat 
time  in  the  academies  of  the  South,  a  profane  anuisenu'nt 
of  the  taste.     In  short,  our  sinful  youth  were  fond  of 


B 


■J'  'I 


T 


54 


IIArirAZAIlD    PKRSONALTTIES. 


I 


stage  plsiys,  and  even  wickedly  enacted  thein,  instead  of 
resortinj*;  t(i  sin<2:in<2;-.scliools.  Joseph  Gales  the  voun<>er 
had  his  bovish  eiiiiihition  of  Roscius  and  Garrick,  and  \)vv- 
fonned  "  top  parts"  in  a  diversity  of  tliosc  sad  comedies 
and  merry  tragedies  wliicii  ])oys  are  apt  to  make,  wh  mi 
tliey  get  into  bnskins.  Bnt  it  nuist  be  said  that,  as  a 
theatric  star,  lie  presently  waxed  dim  before  a  very  liand- 
some  yonth,  a  little  his  senior,  who  jnst  then  had  entered 
his  father's  ollice.  lie  was  not  only  a  printer,  but  had 
already  been  twice  an  editor,  —  last,  in  the  late  North 
Carolina  capital,  Halifax  ;  previously,  in  the  great  town 
of  Petorsburij:,  —  and  was  bred  in  what  seemed  to  Ilaleiuh 
a  mighty  city,  Richmond  ;  in  addition  to  all  which  strong 
points  of  reputation,  he  came  of  an  F.  F.  V.,  and  had 
been  taught  by  the  celel)rated  Ogilvie,  of  whom  more 
anon.  He  was  familiar  with  theatres,  and  had  not  only 
seen,  but  even  criticised  the  great  actors.  He  outshone 
his  very  brother-in-law  and  colleague  that  was  to  be.  For 
this  vouuii' <»;entleman  was  William  Seaton.  . 

Meantime,  Joseph,  too,  had  learnt  the  paternal  art, — 
how  well  will  appear  from  a  single  fact.  About  this  time 
his  father's  otllce  was  destroyed  by  fire,  and  with  it  the 
nnlinished  printing  of  the  legislative  Journals  and  Acts 
of  the  year.  Time  did  not  allow  waiting  for  new  material 
from  Philadelphia.  Just  in  this  strait  he  that  had  of  old 
been  so  inauspicious,  Dick  Davison,  came  once  more  into 
l)lay,  but  this  time  not  as  a  marplot.  He,  strange  to 
say,  was  at  hand  and  hel[)ful.  For  after  his  political  ex- 
ploit, abandoning  England  in  disgust  at  the  consequences 
of  his  gunpowder  plot,  he,  too,  had  not  only  come  to 
America,  but  had  chanced  to  set  up  his  '^  type-stick  "  in 
the  neighboring  town  of  Warrenton,  where  having  flour- 
ished, he  was  now  the  master  of  a  priuting-ottice  and  the 


JOSEPH    G...LES   AND   WILLIAM   W.    SEATON. 


55 


conductor  of  a  newspaper.  TliitluM-,  then,  young  Joseph 
was  (l<!spate1ied,  "  copy  "  in  liand.  Kicliard  —  really  a 
worthy  nian  after  i\ll  —  liladlv  atoned  for  ]iis  ancient  hurtful- 
ness  by  lending  his  type  and  presses  ;  and  falling  to  work 
with  great  vigor,  our  young  Faust,  Avith  his  own  hands  put 
into  type  and  printed  off  the  needful  edition  of  the  Laws. 

He  had  also  by  this  time,  as  an  important  instrument  of 
his  intended  profession,  attained  the  art  of  stenography. 
When,  soon  after,  he  began  to  employ  it,  he  rapidly  be- 
came an  excellent  reporter  ;  and  eventually,  when  he  had 
grown  thoroughly  versed  in  public  affairs,  confessedly  the 
best  reporter  that  we  ever  had. 

He  was  now  well  prepared  to  join  in  the  manly  strife  of 
business  or  politics.  His  father  chose,  therefore,  at  once 
to  connnit  him  to  hini.self .  He  judged  him  mature  enough 
in  principles,  strong  enough  in  sense  ;  and  feared  lest,  by 
being  kept  too  long  under  guidance  and  the  easy  life  of 
home,  he  should  fall  into  inertness.  He  first  sent  him  to 
Philadelphia,  therefore,  to  serve  as  a  workman  with  Birch 
&  Small ;  after  which  he  made  for  him  an  engagement 
on  the  National  Intellic/encer,  as  a  reporter,  and  sent  him 
to  Washington  in  October,  1807. 

To  that  place,  changing  its  name  to  the  one  just 
mentioned,  the  father's  former  paper,  the  Gazetteer,  had. 
been  transferred  by  his  old  associate,  Samuel  Harrison 
Smith.  Its  first  issue  there  (triweekly)  was  on  the  31st 
of  October,  1800,  under  the  double  title  of  The  National 
InteUirjencer  and  Washington  Advertiser.  The  latter  iialf 
of  the  title  seems  to  have  been  dropped  in  1810,  when 
its  present  senior  came,  for  a  time,  into  its  sole  proprie- 
torship. 

More  than  twice  the  age  of  any  otlujr  journal  now 
extant    there,  —  for    the    Globe    came   some   thirty,   the 


' 


t- 


'•«   .r 


5G 


nAniAZARD   PERSONALITIES. 


Union  some  forty-five  years  later, —  the  InteUif/cni'er  has 
long  stood,  in  evei*y  worthy  sense,  tlie  patriarch  of  our 
metropolitan  press.  It  has  witnessed  the  rise  and  fall 
around  it  of  full  a  hundred  competitors,  many  of  them 
declared  enemies ;  not  a  few,  what  was  more  dangerous 
far,  professed  friends.  Yet  in  tlie  face  of  all  enmity  and 
of  such  friendship,  it  lias  ever  held  on  its  calm  way,  never 
deserting  the  public  cause,  as  little  extreme  in  its  oppo- 
sition as  in  its  support  of  those  in  power ;  so  that  its  foes 
never  forgot  it,  when  they  prevailed,  l)ut  its  friends  repeat- 
edly. To  estimate  the  value  of  its  influence,  during  its 
long  career,  would  l)e  impossible,  so  much  of  riglit  has  it 
brought  Mbout,  so  much  of  wrong  defeated. 

Though  it  came  hither  with  our  Congress,  a  newspai)er 
had  once  before  been  set  up  here,  either  upon  the  expecta- 
tion created  bv  the  lavin<>;  of  certain  corner-stones,  in 
1702,  that  the  government  would  fix  itself  at  this  s])ot,  or 
throuiih  an  odd  local  faith  in  the  di'eams  of  some  ancient 
visiouarv  dwellins:  liard  ])v,  who  had,  manv  vears  l)efore, 
foretold  this  as  the  destined  site  of  a  great  imperial  city, 
a  second  Kome,  and  so  liad  bestowed  upon  Goose  Creek 
the  name  of  Tiber,  Ion"'  before  this  was  Waoliiuiiton.  Tlie 
founder  of  this  preadamite  journal  was  Mr.  Benjamin 
Moore,  its  name,  The  Washingfon  Gazette,  its  issue,  semi- 
weekW,  its  annual  price,  four  dollars,  and  the  two  leading 
principles  which,  in  that  day  of  the  infancy  of  political 
"platforms,"  liis  salutatory  announced,  were,  first,  "to 
obtain  a  living  for  himself,"  and  secondly,  "  to  amuse 
and  inform  his  fellow-mortals."  How  long  this  day-star 
of  our  journalism  shone  before  night  again  swallowed  up 
the  premature  dawn,  cannot  now  be  stated.  It  must  have 
been  published  at  what  was  then  expected  to  be  our  city, 
but  is  our  penitentiary,  Greenleaf's  Point. 


TOSKPH   GALES   AND    WILLIAM   W.    SEATON. 


57 


To  the  Intelliyencer  young  Mr.  Gales  brought  such  vigor, 
such  talent,  and  such  skill  in  every  department,  that  within 
two  vears,  in  1809,  he  was  admitted  by  Mr.  Smitli  into 
partnership  ;  within  less  than  a  year  from  wdiich  date, 
that  gentleman,  grown  weary  of  the  laborious  life  of  the 
press,  was  content  to  withdraw,  and  leave  him  sole 
proprietor,  editor,  and  reporter.  An  enormous  worker, 
however,  it  mattered  little  to  him  what  tasks  were  to  be 
assumed ;  he  could  multiply  himself  among  them  and 
sullice  for  all. 

In  thus  assuming  the  undivided  charge  of  the  paper, 
the  young  editor  thought  it  becoming  to  set  forth  one 
main  principle  tliat  has,  beyond  a  cpiestion,  been  admi- 
raltly  the  guide  of  his  public  life.  He  said  to  his  readers, 
"  It  is  the  dearest  right  and  ought  to  be  cherished  as  the 
proudest  prerogative  of  a  freeman,  to  be  guided  l)y  the 
unbiassed  convictions  of  his  own  judgment.  Tliis  riglit 
it  is  my  firm  puri)ose  to  maintain,  and  to  preserve  invio- 
hite  tlie  independence  of  the  print  now  committed  into 
my  hands."  Never  was  })ledge  more  universally  made  or 
more  rarely  kept  than  this. 

It  was  towards  the  close  of  'My.  Jefferson's  presidency 
that  Mr.  Gales  had  entered  the  ollice  of  the  Iiitclliyeiu'ei', 
and  it  was  during  Mr.  jMadison's  first  vear  that  he  became 
joint  editor  of  that  paper.  Of  these  administrations  it 
liad  been  the  supporter,  only  f<jllowing,  in  tiiat  regard,  the 
transmitted  politics  of  its  original,  the  (rdzcffopr,  derived 
from  tlie  elder  ]\Ir.  (iales.  lired  in  these,  the  son  had 
learnt  them  of  his  sire,  just  as  he  had  adopted  his  religion 
or  his  morals.  S})rung  from  one  who  had  been  persecuted 
in  England  as  a  republican,  it  w;is  natural  that  the  son 
should  love  the  faith  for  which  an  honored  parent  had 
sutfered. 


58 


IIAPHAZAIin    PERSONALITIES. 


Tlic  liigii  qiuilitlos  and  the  strong  abilities  of  the  young 
eilitor  did  not  fail  to  strilve  the  diseerning  eye  of  President 
Madison,  who  speedily  gave  him  liis  affection  and  confi- 
dence. To  that  administration  the  LiteUigencer  stood  in 
the  most  intimate  and  faithful  relations,  sustainino"  its 
policy  as  a  necessity  where  it  might  not  have  been  a 
choice.  During  the  entire  course  of  the  war,  the  Intelli- 
gencer sustained  most  vigorously  all  the  measures  needful 
for  carrying  it  on  with  efficiency ;  and  it  did  equally  good 
service  in  reanimating,  whenever  it  had  slackened  at  any 
disaster,  the  (lro()i)ing  spirit  of  our  people.  Nor  did  its 
editors,  when  there  were  two,  stop  at  these  proofs  of 
sincerity,  nor  shrink  when  danger  drew  near  from  that 
hazard  of  their  own  persons  to  which  they  had  stirred  up 
the  country.  When  invasion  came,  they  at  once  took  to 
arms  as  volunteer  common  soldiers,  went  to  meet  the 
enemy,  and  remained  in  the  field  until  he  had  fallen  back 
to  the  coast ;  and  during  the  invasion  of  Washington, 
moreover,  their  establishment  was  attacked  and  partially 
destroyed,  through  an  unmanly  spirit  of  revenge  on  the 
part  of  the  British  forces. 

In  October,  1812,  proposing  to  himself  the  change  of 
his  paper  into  a  daily  one  (as  was  accordingly  brought 
about  on  the  first  of  January  ensuing),  Mr.  Gales  invited 
Mr.  Seaton,  who  had  by  this  time  become  his  brother-in- 
law,  to  come  and  join  him.  He  did  so  ;  and  the  early  tie 
of  youthful  friendship  which  had  grown  between  them  at 
Raleigh,  and  which  the  new  relation  had  drawn  still 
closer,  gradually  matured  into  that  more  than  friendship 
or  brotherhood,  that  oneness  and  identity  of  all  purposes, 
opinions,  and  interests  which  has  ever  since  existed  be- 
tween them  without  a  moment's  interruption,  and  has  long 
been  to  those  who  understood  it  a  rare  spectacle  of  that 


JOSEPH   GALES   AND   WILLIAM   W.    SEATON. 


5U 


coiHMjrd  jiiul  {itTectioii  ho  st'ldom  witnessed,  und  could 
never  have  come  iibout  except  between  men  of  singulur 
virtues. 

The  same  venr  tliat  broui>;ht  dales  and  Seaton  together 
as  partners  in  Inisiness,  witnessed  an  alliance  of  a  more 
interesting  character;  for  it  was  in  1813  that  Mv.  (iales 
married  the  accomplished  dangliter  of  Theodorick  Lee, 
younger  brother  of  that  brilliant  soldier  of  the  devolution, 
the  "Legionary  Harrv." 

But  at  this  i)oint  the  writer  must  go  back  for  a  w^iile, 
in  order  to  brin<>:  down  the  st(jrv  of  William  Seaton  to 
where,  uniting  w  ith  his  associates,  the  two  thus  How  on  in 
a  sini>le  stream. 

He  was  born  Jan.  11,  1785,  on  the  paternal  estate  in 
King  William  County,  Virginia,  one  of  a  family  of  four 
sons  and  three  daughters.  At  the  good  old  mansion 
passed  his  childhood ;  there,  too,  according  to  what  was 
then  the  wont  in  Virginia,  he  trod  the  lirst  steps  of  learn- 
ing, under  the  guidance  of  a  domestic  tutor,  a  decayed 
gentleman,  old  and  bedridden,  for  the  only  part  left  him 
of  a  genteel  inheritance  was  the  gout.  But  when  it  be- 
came necessary  to  send  his  riper  progeny  abroad  for  more 
advanced  studies,  Mr.  Seaton  very  justly  bethought  him 
of  going  along  with  them  ;  and  so  betook  himself  with 
his  whole  family  to  Richmond,  where  he  ^'^as  the  possessor 
of  houses  enough  to  afford  him  a  good  habitation  and  a 
genteel  income.  Here,  then,  along  with  his  brothers  and 
sisters,  William  was  taught  through  an  ascending  series 
of  schools,  until  at  last  he  arrived  at  what  was  the  wonder 
of  that  day,  the  academy  of  Ogilvie,  the  Scotchman.  He, 
))e  it  noted,  had  an  earldom,  that  of  Finlater,  which  slept 
while  its  heir  was  playing  pedagogue  in  America,  —  a 
strange  mixture  of  the  ancient  rhapsodist  with  the  modern 


iii- 


GO 


IIAl'IIAZARD    PERSONALITIKS. 


strolling  ac'or,  of  the  lord  with  luni  wlio  lives  by  his  wits. 
Seot  lis  he  was,  lie  was  better  fitted  to  teach  anvthiiiir 
ratlier  tliau  eomnion-seiise.  The  writer  must  not  <:;ive  tlie 
idea,  however,  that  tliere  was  in  Lord  Finlater  aiivtliinu; 
but  eceeutrieitv  to  dero<i:ate  from  the  honors  of  either  his 
linenne  or  his  learnini>".  A  very  solid  teacher  he  was  not. 
A  great  enthusiast  by  nature,  and  a  master  of  the  whole 
art  of  discoursing  finely  of  even  those  things  which  he  knew 
not  well,  he  dtizzled  much,  plensed  greatly,  and  obtained  a 
higli  reputation  ;  so  that,  if  lie  did  not  regularly  inform  or 
discipline  tlie  minds  of  his  pu[)ils,  he  probably  made  them, 
to  an  unusual  degree,  amends  on  another  side.  lie  in- 
fused iiit(>  tliem,  by  the  glitter  of  his  accomplishments,  a 
high , admiration  for  learning  and  for  letters.  Certainly 
the  number  of  his  scliolars  who  arrived  at  distinction  was 
remarkably;  and  this  is,  of  course,  a  fact  conclusive  of 
great  merit  of  some  sort  as  a  teacher,  where,  as  in  his 
case,  the  pupils  were  not  luiiny.  AVitliout  pausing  to 
mention  others  of  them  who  arrived  at  honor,  it  mav  be 
well  enough  to  refer  to  Winfield  Scott,  William  Campbell 
Preston,  1>.  Watkins  Leigh,  Willinm  S.  Archer,  and  AVil- 
liam  C.  llives. 

The  writer  does  not  know  if  it  had  ever  been  designed 
that  young  Seaton  should  proceed  from  Ogilvie's  classes 
to  the  more  systematic  courses  of  a  colle"e.  Possil)ly 
not.  P^ven  among  the  wealthy,  at  that  time,  lioine  educa- 
tion was  often  employed.  The  cliildren  of  both  sexes 
were  committed  to  the  care  of  ])rivate  tutors,  usually 
young  Scotchmen,  the  graduates  of  Glasgow,  Edinl)urgh, 
or  Aberdeen,  sent  over  to  the  planter,  upon  order,  along 
with  his  yearly  su[)ply  of  goods,  by  his  merchant  abroad  ; 
or  else  the  sons  were  sent  to  select  privi.te  schools,  like 
that  of   Ogilvie,   set   up  by  men   of   such   abilities   aud 


JOSEPH   GALES    AND   WILLIAM   W.    SEATON. 


61 


scholiirsliii)  as  were  supposed  capable  of  perforining  the 
whole  work  of  institutions. 

At  any  rate,  our  youtli,  witliout  further  preparation,  at 
the  age  of  eighteen,  entered  earnestly  upon  the  duties  of 
life.  He  fell  at  once  into  his  vocation  ;  impelled  to  it, 
no  doubt,  by  the  ambition  for  letters  and  public  affairs 
which  the  lessons  of  Ogilvie  usually  produced.  Party  ran 
high.  Virginia  politics,  Hushed  with  recent  success,  had 
added  to  the  usual  passions  of  the  contest  those  of  victory. 

Into  the  novelties  of  the  day  our  student  accordingly 
plunged,  in  common  with  nearly  all  others  of  ti  like  age 
and  condition.  He  became,  in  short,  a  politician.  Though 
talent  of  every  other  sort  a])ounded,  that  of  writing 
promptly  and  pleasingly  did  not.  Young  Seaton  was  found 
to  possess  this,  and  therefore  soon  obtained  leave  to  exercise 
it  as  assistant  editor  of  one  of  the  Kichmond  journals. 
lie  had  already  made  himself  ac(|uainted  with  the  art  of 
printing,  in  an  ollice  where  he  became  the  companion  and 
friend  of  the  late  Thomas  Ritchie,  and  it  is  more  than 
])robable  that  many  of  his  youthful  '' editoritds "  were 
"  set  up  "  by  his  own  hands.  Attaining  by  degrees  a 
youthful  reputation,  he  received  an  invitation  to  take  the 
sole  charge  of  a  respectable  paper  in  Petersburg,  the 
liejmhlican,  the  editor  and  proprietcH-  of  which,  IMr. 
Thomas  Field,  was  about  to  leave  the  country  for  some 
months.  Ac(piitting  himself  here  with  great  ap[)roval,  he 
won  an  invitation  to  a  still  better  position,  —  that  of  the 
proprietary  editorship)  of  the  JS^rth  Carolina  Journal, 
pul)lished  at  Halifax,  the  former  capital  of  that  State, 
and  the  only  newspaper  there.  He  accepted  the  offer, 
and  became  the  master  of  his  own  independent  journal. 
Of  its  l)eing  so  he  proceeded  at  once  to  give  his  i)atrons  a 
somewhat  decisive  token.     They  were  chietlv  Federalists  ; 


[ 


j-ir, 


62 


IIAPHAZARI)    rKUSONALITIES. 


it  wus  a  region  strongly  Federal ;  and  the  gazette  itself 
had  always  niaintained  tlie  purest  Federalism  but  he 
forthwith  ehanged  its  politics  to  Uepuhlieau. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  he  who  made  a  change  so 
manly  conducted  his  p;4)er  witii  s})irit.  Yc^t  he  nuist  have 
done  it  also  with  that  wise  and  wiuning  moderation  and 
fairness  which  have  sin(;e  distinguished  him  and  his  asso- 
ciate. William  Seaton  could  never  have  fallen  into  any- 
thing  of  the  temi)er  or  the  taste,  the  morals  or  the  man- 
ners, wiiich  are  now  so  widely  the  shame  of  the  American 
press  ;  he  could  never  have,  written  in  the  ill  spi)Mt  of  mere 
party,  so  as  to  wound  or  even  oft'end  the  good  men  of  an 
opposite  way  of  thinking.  The  inference  is  a  sure  one 
from  his  character,  and  is  confirmed  by  what  we  know  to 
have  happened  during  liis  editorial  career  among  the  Fed- 
eralists of  Halifax.  Instead  of  his  paper's  losing  ground 
under  the  circumstances  just  mentioned,  it  really  gained 
so  larij-ely  and  won  so  nuichthe  esteem  of  both  sides,  that, 
when  he  desired  to  dispose  of  it,  in  order  to  seek  a  higher 
theatre,  he  easily  sold  the  property  for  double  what  it  had 
cost  him. 

It  was  now  that  he  made  his  way  to  Raleigh,  the  new 
State  capital,  and  became  connected  with  the  Ut^fjister. 
Nor  was  it  long  before  this  connection  was  drawn  vet 
closer  by  his  happy  marriage  with  the  lady  whose  virtues 
and  accomplishments  have  so  long  been  the  modest  yet 
shinino;  ornament  and  charm  of  his  household  and  of  the 
society  of  AVashinyton.  After  this  union,  he  continued 
his  previous  relationship  with  tiie  Jiegister,  until,  as  al- 
ready mentioned,  he  came  to  the  metropolis  to  join  his 
fortunes  with  those  of  his  brother-in-law.  From  this 
point,  of  course,  their  stories,  like  their  lives,  become  united, 
and  merge,  with  a  rare  concord,  into  one.     They  have 


JOSEPH   GALES    AND    WILLIAM   W.    SEATON. 


63 


had  no  bickorinc:s,  no  misunderstandin*^,  no  difference 
of  view  which  a  consulttition  did  not  nt  once  reconcile  ; 
they  have  never  known  a  division  of  interests  ;  from  their 
common  coffer  each  has  alwavs  drawn  wliatever  he  chose  ; 
and,  down  to  this  day,  there  lias  never  been  a  settle- 
nientof  accounts  between  them.  What  facts  conld  lu'tter 
attest,  not  merely  a  singular  harmony  of  character,  but 
an  admlral)le  conformity  of  virtues? 

The  history  of  the  Intelligencer  has,  as  to  all  its 
leading  i)articulars,  been  for  fifty  years  spread  before 
thousands  of  readeis,  in  its  continuous  diary.  To  re- 
chronicle  any  part  of  what  is  so  well  known  would  be  idle 
in  the  extreme.  Of  the  editors  personally,  their  lives, 
since  they  became  mature  and  settled,  have  presented  few 
events  such  as  are  not  common  to  all  men,  —  little  of 
vicissitude,  beyond  that  of  pockets  now  full  and  now 
empty,  —  nothing  but  a  steady  performance  of  duty,  an 
exertion,  whenever  necessary,  of  high  ability,  and  the 
gradual  accunuilatiou  through  these  of  a  deei)ly  felt  esteem 
among  all  the  best  and  wisest  of  the  land.  Amidst  tlie 
many  popular  passions  with  which  nearly  all  have,  in  our 
country,  run  wild,  they  have  maintained  a  perpetual  and 
sage  moderation  ;  amidst  incessant  variations  of  doctrine, 
they  liave  preserved  a  memory  and  a  conscience  ;  in  the 
frequent  fluctuations  of  power,  they  have  steadily  checked 
the  alternate  excesses  of  both  parties ;  and  they  have 
never  given  to  either  a  factious  opposition  or  a  merely 
partisan  support.  Of  their  journal  it  may  be  said,  that 
there  has,  in  all  our  times,  shone  no  such  continual  light 
on  public  affairs,  there  has  stood  no  such  sure  defence 
of  whatever  was  needful  to  be  upheld.  Tempering  the 
heats  of  both  sides  ;  re-nationalizing  all  spirit  of  section  ; 
combating   our   propensity   to  lawlessness   at  home  and 


ill 


64 


IIAPIIAZAUD    rKItSONALITIES. 


MojijrcHsioii  tiln'ojul ;  si)r('ii(rnio;  conHtimtly  on  cuch  (pU'S- 
Uniof  tlio  (lay  II  mass  of  Homul  iiifornuition,  —  tlio  von- 
crablo  editors  luivo  been,  nil  tlio  while,  :i  power  mid  Ji 
Bjifetv  in  tlie  land,  no  matter  who  were  the  rulers.  Neither 
party  could  have  s[)ared  an  opijosition  so  just  or  ji  suj)- 
port  BO  well  nieasuri'd.  Thus  it  eunuot  be  decsnied  au 
Anieriean  exagjjferation  to  declare  the  opinion  as  to  the  iu- 
lluence  of  the  Intclli'yotrcr  over  oui'  public  couusels,  that 
its  value  is  not  easilv  to  be  overrated. 

Never,  meantime,  was  authority  wiehU-d  with  less 
assunii)tion.  The  Iiitc/dgeiKrr  could  not,  of  course, 
hel[)  beini^  awan;  of  the  weight  which  its  opiuit^ns  »;lways 
curried  among  the  thinking;  but  it  has  never  betrayed 
tinv  consciousness  of  its  intluence,  nnless  in  a  ceaseless 
care  to  deserve  resi)ect.  Its  modesty  and  candor,  its  fair- 
ness and  courtesy,  liave  been  invariable  ;  nor  less  so,  its 
observance  of  that  decorum  and  those  charities  which  con- 
stitute the  very  grace  of  all  pu])lic  life.  On  the  score  of 
dignity  it  has  never  htid  a  superior  and  seldom  an  equal  in 
any  country,  and  numerous  instances  might  l)e  cited,  at- 
testing the  fact  that  no  sums  of  money  ever  had  the  power 
to  make  them  publish  insincere  opinions  or  admit  to  their 
colunms  improper  advertisements. 

From  the  time  of  their   coming   together  down  to  the 
3^ear  1820,  Gales  and  Seaton  Averc  the  exclusive  reporters, 
as  well  as  editors,  of  their  journal;   one  of  them  devot 
ing  himself  to  the  Senate,  and  the  other  to  the  TTou^ 
Representatives.     G enerally  speaking,  tlie}'  pul •^'  '*• 
running  reports ;  on   special   occasions,  how(       «  gi^  ■    , 
the  speeches  and  proceedings  entire.     In  those  days  tliey 
had  seats  of  honor  assigned  to  them  directly  by  the  ^-.tde 
of  the  presiding  olTlcers,  and  over  the  snuff-box,  in  a  quiet 
and  familiar  manner,  the  topics  of  the  day  were  often  dis- 


JOSKPII    <}ALKS    AND    WILLIAM    W.    SKATON, 


65 


OBSSed.  To  tho  i)rivilo^('S  llicy  then  enjoyed,  l)ut  more 
especisilly  to  their  Hiijjfiieity  and  industry,  are  wo  now  in- 
debted, lis  a  eountry,  for  their  "  Uei>ister  of  Debsites," 
which,  with  the  Infi'l/if/cnccr,  h:is  beeonie  a  most  ini- 
poi'tant  part  of  our  national  liistory.  As  in  their  journal 
nearly  all  the  most  eminent  of  Anierietm  statesmen  havt? 
diseussed  tius  affairs  of  the  country,  so  have  they  been 
the  direet  means  of  })reservini5  many  of  the  speeches  whicii 
are  now  thc^  aeknowh'dged  ornaments  of  our  political  lit- 
erature. Had  it  not  been  for  Mr.  (Jales,  the  nr(>;tt  intel- 
lectual combat  between  Ilaync  and  Webster,  forexampU', 
would  have  ])assed  into  a  vague  tnidition,  perhaps.  The 
original  notes  of  jNlr.  Webster's  speech,  now  in  Mr.  (Jales's 
library,  form  a  volume  of  several  hundred  pages,  and, 
having  been  corrected  and  interlined  by  the  statesman's 
own  hand,  present  a  treasure  that  might  be  envied.  At 
the  i)eriod  just  alluded  to,  Mr.  Gales  had  given  up  the 
practice  of  reporting  any  s[)eeclies,  and  it  was  a  nu-re 
accident  that  led  him  to  pay  Mr.  Webster  the  comi)linient 
in  question.  That  it  was  appreciated  was  proven  by  many 
reciprocal  acts  of  kindness  and  the  long  and  hap[)y  intr 
niacy  that  exist(Hl  between  the  two  gentlemen,  ending 
only  with  tlu?  life  of  the   statesman.      It  w:»s   INlr.  Web- 

ft/ 

ster's  o[)inion,  that  the  abilities  of  jNIr.  dales  were  of  the 
highest  order  ;  and  yet  the  writer  has  heard  of  one  in- 
stance in  which  even  the  editor  could  not  get  along  witii- 
out  a  helping  hand.  Mr.  Gales  had  for  some  days  Iteen 
engaged  upon  the  grand  jury,  and,  with  his  head  full  of 
technicalities,  entered  upon  the  duty  of  preparing  a  cer- 
tain editorial.  In  doing  this,  he  unconsciously  employed 
a  number  of  legal  j)hrases  ;  and  when  about  half  through, 
found  it  necessary  to  come  to  a  halt.  At  this  juncture 
he  dropped  a  note  to  Mr.  Webster,  transmitting  the  un- 


i 


GG 


II Ari  I A Z  A  U  1>    PERSONA LITIES . 


finished  article  iind  expLiiuiiig  his  (lilliciiltv.  Mr.  AVeb- 
ster  took  it  in  hand,  finished  it  to  the  satisfaction  of  Mr. 
Gales,  and  it  was  pnl)lislied  as  editorial. 

Hnt  the  writer  is  tres[)assing  ui)on  private  <2:ronnd,  and 
it  is  with  ii'reat  rehictance  that  he  refrains  from  recordinc: 
a  long  list  of  incidents  which  liave  come  to  his  knowledge, 
calcnlated  to  illnstrate  tlie  manifold  virtues  of  his  distin- 
guislu'd  friends.  That  they  are  universally  respected  and 
beloved  by  those  who  know  them;  that  their  oi)inions 
on  pul)lic  matters  have  been  solicited  by  Secretaries  of 
State  and  even  by  Presidents  opposed  to  them  in  })olitics  ; 
that  their  journal  has  done  more  than  any  other  in  the 
country  to  promote  a  lieaUhy  tone  in  polite  literature  ; 
that  their  home-life  has  been  made  happy  l)y  the  influences 
of  refinement  and  taste  ;  and  that  they  have  given  away 
to  the  poor  money  enough  almost  to  build  a  city,  and  to 
the  unfortunate  spoken  kind  words  enough  to  fill  a  library, 
—  are  all  assertions  which  none  can  truthfully  denv.  If, 
therefore,  to  look  back  upon  a  long  life  not  mielestib/  spent 
is  what  will  give  us  peace  at  last,  then  will  the  evening  of 
thei»'  davs  be  all  that  tliev  could  desire  ;  and  their  "  silver 
hau'S,"  the  most  appropriate  crown  of  true  patriotism, 

**  Will  purchase  them  a  good  opinion, 
And  buy  men's  voices  to  commend  their  deeds." 


P.  S.  As  a  kind  of  sequel  to  the  foregoing  article  which 
was  written  shortly  before  the  death  of  Mr.  Josej)!!  Gales, 
in  LSGO,  the  writer  submits  the  subjoined  in  menioriam 
paragraphs  respecting  the  National  Ldelliyencer  and  its 
famous  editors  :  — 

Joseph  Gales  died  in  Washington,  July  21,  18G0,  and 
"William  W.  Seaton  also  departed  this  life  on  the  Kith  of 
June,  18GG,  in  the  same  city.     On  the  31st  of  December, 


JOSEPH    tiALES    AND    WILLIAM    W.    SEATON. 


67 


cs, 

iani 

its 

!\ik1 
of 


1864,  appojiivd  tlic  last  number  of  the  National  Intelli- 
gencer under  the  auspices  of  its  tlu'ii  survivini»-  editor,  wlio, 
on  that  day,  and  when  within  '^:ie  month  of  his  eiglitieth 
3'ear,  retired  to  private  life.  In  other  hands  the  })aiK'r, 
thoUij:li  hearing;  the  old  name,  ])e('ame  a  new  affair.  Its 
brilliant  sun  went  down  behind  the  horizon  while  vet  ihe 
sky  of  our  country  was  obscured  with  the  clouds  of  civil 
war  ;  but  its  fame  will  ever  be  gloriously  identified  with 
the  honor  and  happiness  of  the  American  Union.  From 
every  part  of  the  land  —  from  the  North  and  the  South, 
the  East  and  the  West — went  forth  a  loving  benison  for 
the  prosi)erity  and  peaceful  decline  of  the  surviving  patri- 
arch of  the  American  press.  But  before  eighteen  months 
had  passed  away,  t-ic  retirement  to  private  life  was  fol- 
lowed })V  the  death  of  the  veteran  editor,  and  thus  ended 
the  renuirkalile  cancer  of  Gales  and  Seaton.  - 

Between  the  yes'rs  182;")  and  1<S.V.),  both  inclusive,  the 
monthly  expenses  of  the  National  Intelligencer  averaged 
$4,000,  K..  $1,080,000  for  the  whole  period.  The  amount 
drawn  out  by  Mr.  dales  during  that  time  for  his  personal 
expenses  was  $617,270,  and  ])y  INfr.  Seaton,  $21i),,*i71  ; 
making  together  $JS.'U),642,  or  a  grand  total  of  moneys  dis- 
bursed by  the  oflice  in  thirty-five  years,  $2,r)16,641.  Of 
course  these  were  not  the  earnings  of  the  Intelligencer 
alone,  but  were  greatlv  enhanced  bv  the  various  Congres- 
sional  j)ublications  which  bore  the  imprint  of  Gales  & 
Seaton.  After  the  death  of  i\lr.  Gales,  the  ollice  was 
found  indebted  to  Mr.  Seaton  in  the  sum  of  $70,000, 
which  claim  was  presented  by  him  to  the  widow  of  his  late 
l)artner  and  brother-in-law. 

The  chief  business  man  and  ])ookkeeper  of  the  Intelli- 
gencer estal)lishment.  and  the  warm  personal  friend  of  the 
editors,  was  Mr.  Thomas  Douoho.     lie  was  born  in  Mary- 


!■  ? 


■!!'    I 


hi 


1 1 


68 


IIAPII AZ AKD    PP:KS0NAL1TI  KS  . 


liind,  and  was  connected  with  the  journal  for  about  fifty 
years,  and  during  all  that  time  made  but  one  visit  to 
the  Capitol.  Like  Gales  and  Seaton,  he  won  and  com- 
manded the  higlu^st  respect  of  all  those  who  had  business 
with  them,  and  tlie  devotion  of  the  former  to  the  welfare 
of  their  country  has  only  been  equalled  by  the  faithfulness 
of  the  latter  to  the  interests  of  his  distinguished  friends. 
When  the  Intelligencer  oflice  had  been  sold,  and  an  entire 
change  made  in  its  affairs,  Mr.  Donoho  was  asked  to  con- 
tinue thereon  duty,  to  which  request  he  made  this  charac- 
teristic reply  :  "  No,  I  cannot  be  happy  over  the  grave  of 
the  Intelligencer."  Nor  has  he,  as  we  understand,  ever  had 
the  heart  even  to  make  a  visit  to  the  old  quarters.  He 
asked  one  boon  of  the  new  proprietors,  however,  which 
was  that  they  would  give  him  the  old  sign-board  of  the 
oflice,  under  which  so  many  famous  men  in  the  olden  times 
had  passed  into  the  sanctums  of  tho  editors.  The  request 
was  granted,  and,  true  to  his  character,  Mr.  Donoho  de- 
posited it  in  a  safe  place  at  the  shop  of  a  cabinet-maker, 
with  the  injunction  that  it  should  form  a  part  of  his  coffin 
when  lie  came  to  die.* 

While  it  is  true  that  the  heavier  political  work  of  the 
Intelligencer  was  performed  by  Mr.  (iales,  it  is  also  true 
that  many  very  able  articles  emanated  from  the  pen  of  "Mr. 
Seaton.  The  former  made  it  his  business  to  manage;  the 
artillery  guns,  while  the  latter  chose  rather  to  devote  him- 
self to  infantry  tactics.  During  the  greater  part  of  their 
long  partnership  they  occupied  adjoining  rooms,  and  met 
at  least  once  every  day  for  consultation.  The  oflice  Jress 
of  INlr.  Gales  was  commonly  a  loose  morning-gown,  wliile 
chat  of  Mr.   Seaton  was  a  dark   flannel  roundabout.     A 


♦  His  request  was  complied  with. 


JOSEril    GALES   AND    WILLIAM   W.    SEaTON. 


69 


r. 

n- 
'ir 
ot 


perennial  courtesy  prevailed  throughout  their  establish- 
ment ;  they  received  their  visitors,  with  equal  urbanity  and 
kindness,  and  the  friends  of  the  one  editor  were  also  the 
friends  of  the  other.  In  recalling  Mr.  Gales's  room,  as 
I  knew  it,  three  features  come  out  in  bold  relief ;  at  one 
end  of  it  were  some  wooden  cases,  tilled  with  carefully 
arranged  letters  and  manuscripts,  confidential  communica- 
tions addressed  to  the  editors  on  pul)lic  affairs,  from  all 
the  leading  statesmen  and  politicians  of  the  country,  and 
of  which  Mr.  Gales  was  wont  to  speak  as  invalual)le  ma- 
terials for  history  ;  another  thing  that  1  remember  was  a 
mannnolli  tumbler,  from  which  the  editor  enjoyed  a  daily 
drink  of  cool  soda  water  ;  and  iinally  a  single  oil  painting, 
which  hung  upon  the  wtdl  directly  in  front  of  the  editorial 
chair.  This  picture  represented  a  storm  at  sea,  with  one 
poor  little  steamer  fighting  its  way  against  the  wind  and 
tide  and  blinding  rain  ;  and  once,  when  I  was  looking 
upon  it  with  special  attention,  IMr.  Gales  suddenly  dropped 
a  letter  that  he  was  reading,  and  made  this  connnent :  "I 
keep  that  picture  there  for  my  daily  comfort.  It  is  not 
valuable  as  a  work  of  art,  but  its  teachings  are  precious  to 
me.  I  know  that  the  little  steamer  will  reach  its  destined 
haven  in  spite  of  the  storm,  and  so,  when  I  am  in  trouble 
and  in  want  of  money,  I  have  but  to  look  upon  this  pic- 
ture, brace  my  courage  anew,  do  the  best  I  can,  and  be 
happy,  for  the  storm  cannot  last  forever." 

On  entering  Mr.  Seaton's  room,  the  first  object  which 
ihvariably  attracted  the  visitor's  attention  was  a  noble 
pointer  dog,  lying  by  the  side  of  his  master's  chair.    Here, 

• 

as  in  the  adjoining  room,  were  packed  away  many  auto- 
graphic treasures  ;  but  the  books  scattered  about  were  more 
numerous,  and  the  walls  were  literally  covered  with  maps 
and  charts,  as  if  the  occupant  loved  to  let  his  fancy  roam, 


wmmm 


70 


IIArilAZARD    rEKSONALITIES. 


wliile  smoking  liis  cigar,  to  the  remotest  corners  of  the 
earth;  and  in  their  appropriate  phices  might  he  seen  a 
newly  invented  gun,  a  case  or  two  of  stutfed  game  birds, 
and  a  few  engravings  of  English  hunting  scenes.  Hold- 
ing, as  Mr.  Seaton  did  for  many  years,  the  ollices  of  ]\Iayor 
of  Washington,  and  treasurer  of  the  Smithsonian  Institu- 
tion,  as  well  as  many  othi'rs  of  ecpial  responsibility,  it 
was  natural  that  his  visitors  should  be  more  numerous  and 
multifarious  than  those  who  usuallv  had  business  with  Mr. 
Gales,  and  it  was  because  of  his  pressing  oflicial  duties 
that  he  was  unable  to  do  as  much  writing  for  his  journal  as 
he  desired  and  the  public  expected.  The  very  last  time 
I  visited  his  sanctum  befcn-e  the  old  office  building  was 
replaced  by  the  new  one,  his  splendid  old  dog  still  lay  upon 
the  rug  at  his  feet,  and  in  answer  to  some  casual  allusion 
which  I  made  to  woodcock  shooting,  he  remarked,  ''  Oh  ! 
yes,  I  know  that  game  is  abundant,  but  the  old  dog  and  the 
old  man,  I  fear,  will  never  hunt  any  more." 

As  already  intimated,  the  statesmen  who  have  occasion- 
ally  contributed  to  the  National  Litellkjencer  comprise  a 
large  proportion  of  the  more  famous  men  of  the  country, 
including  such  giants  as  AVcbster,  Clay,  and  Calhoun  ;  ]jut 
the  list  of  purely  literary  men  wdio  have  from  time  to  time 
made  it  the  medium  of  comnuniicating  with  the  public  is 
also  very  large.  Of  all  its  reguiar  European  correspondents, 
Mr.  Robert  M.  Walsh  was  undoubtedlv  the  mosta])le,  and 
his  contributions  extended  through  a  series  of  many  years  ; 
and  the  man  who  gave  '.^<  the  highest  literary  tone  was 
Mr.  Edward  William  Johnston,  who  was  a  man  of  rare 
scholarship  and  ability,  and  his  collected  writings  would 
make  a  volume  of  very  superior  excellence.  At  a  subse- 
quent period  the  reviews  and  political  editorials  of  James 
C.  AVelling  did  much  to  keep  up  the  reputation  of  the  old 
journal. 


JOSEPH  GALES   AND   WILLIAM   W.    SEATON. 


71 


pn- 
a 

V, 


IS 


re 

Id 
c- 
es 
Id 


Eckino^ton  was  the  name  by  which  the  country  seat  of 
Mr.  Gales  was  known,  and  it  was  situated  just  on  the 
northeastern  border  of  the  city  of  Wasliington.  It  was 
named  by  him  after  tlie  native  town  of  his  father  in  Enjr- 
land,  and  I  remember  that  he  once  pronounced  Johnston's 
"Universal  Gazetteer"  the  l)est  work  extant,  of  its  kind, 
because  it  was  the  only  one  which  had  mentioned  the  town 
of  Eckington.  The  house  was  unpretending  in  its  archi- 
tecture, though  truly  elegant.  All  its  appointments  and 
surroundings  were  home-like,  and  a  number  of  huge  oak- 
trees  extended  their  limbs  over  the  roof,  from  one  of  which, 
during  a  sunnner  night  that  I  once  spent  there,  a  ven- 
erable owl  amused  itself  with  melancholy  hootings. 

The  visit  here  alluded  to  was  made  at  a  time  when  Mr. 
Gales  was  in  excellent  health,  and  the  delightful  impres- 
sions which  it  left  upon  me  can  never  be  forgotten.  1'he 
wines  which  sparkled  in  our  glasses  at  the  dinner-table 
were  rich  and  rare  ;  but  the  wit  and  wisdom  and  numerous 
anecdotes  of  the  great  men  of  the  time,  which  the  host 
condescen  led  to  utter  for  my  o;ratilication,  were  far  more 
exhilarating  than  the  product  of  any  vintage.  And  then 
when  Mr.  Gales  piloted  me  from  rooi»:  to  room,  and  brought 
out  the  treasures  of  his  extensive  library,  amono;  which 
was  the  original  manuscrii)t  (yf  Webster's  Keply  to  Ilayne, 
which  he  hid  reported,  and  scores  of  illustrated  l)ooks  by 
Gavarni  and  other  famous  French  artists,  for  whose  pi'o- 
ductions  he  had  a  special  fondness,  it  seemed  to  me  that  I 
had  never  before  enjoyed  such  a  splendid  collection  of  in- 
tellectual luxuries.  When  his  hour  for  retiring  arrived, 
and  he  found  that  I  was  not  disposed  to  waste  any  time 
by  sleeping,  he  fixed  me  in  a  hirge  arm-chair  under  a  brill- 
iant light,  piled  up  quarto  and  folio  volumes  of  rarest 
value  on  the  ca''pet  around  me,  and  then  bade  me  good 


72 


HAPIIAZAUD   TERSONALITraS. 


night.  And  in  what  a  wonder- world  did  I  then  revel! 
Nor  was  it  strange  that,  after  I  had  sought  my  pillow, 
I  heard  the  hootings  of  the  gunrdian  owl  until  the  dawn. 
I  left  my  bed  as  early  as  four  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
and  on  entering  the  private  study  of  the  great  editor,  I 
found  him  hard  at  work  upon  one  of  those  political  leaders 
which  were  the  foundation  of  his  fame. 

As  Mr.  Gales  had  his  Eckingto  i,  where  he  (piietly  re- 
sided during  all  the  verntd  months,  so  did  Mr.  Seaton  have 
his  shooting-box,  where  he  was  wont  annually  to  spend  a 
few  weeks  in  the  enjoyment  of  wild  life,  when  anxious  to 
get  away  from  the  cares  of  business.  This  spot  was  called  ^ 
"  The  INfountain  Ketreat,"  and  consisted  of  a  plain  farm- 
house, planted  in  the  midst  of  several  hundred  aci'es  of 
land  on  the  top  of  the  Alleghany  Mountains  in  Virginia. 
When  he  went  there  to  be  free  and  happy  he  invariably 
took  with  him  a  few  chosen  friends  ;  and  then  it  was  that 
deer  hunting  and  trout  fishing  were  engaged  in  to  their 
greatest  perfection ;  as  well  as  midnight  suppers,  with 
game  from  the  wilderness,  washed  down  with  wines  all  the 
way  from  the  Rhine  ;  and  the  countless  stories  of  wild  ad- 
venture which  were  first  told  at  the  Mountain  Ri'treat 
became  household  words  among  his  friends  in  their  citv 
homes  during  the  ensuing  winter.  The  intensity  of  j\Ir. 
Seaton's  love  of  natui'e  was  something  rare,  and  was  the 
precious  gift,  undoubtedly,  that  kept  his  physical  and  men- 
tal qualities  in  perfect  trim  until  he  had  passed  his  three- 
score years  and  ten,  and  preserved  his  mind  as  clenr  ns  a 
diamond  initil  the  close  of  life.  The  wild  si^enery  and  the 
bracing  air  of  the  mountains  were  among  his  greatest 
blessings. 

I  do   not   remember  when    it   was,  exactly,    that   Mr. 
Seaton  gave  up  the  use  of  the  shot-gun,  but  I  do  know 


JOSEPH   GALKS   ANT)    WILLIAM   W.    SEATON. 


73 


that  {i.s  hito  as  the  tiutnnin  of  1<S();]  he  l)agood  ii  I'uir  pro- 
portion of  birds.  At  that  time  he  was  hjokini]^  almost  as 
hale  and  hearty  as  a  young  man  of  twenty.  Even  during 
the  coldest  weather  of  that  season  he  occasionallv  left  his 
l)('d  before  dawn,  roused  his  s})lendid  d(jg,  and,  accom- 
panied by  a  single  servant,  drove  off  some  fifteen  or  twenty 
miles  to  parts  unknown,  returning  home  with  one  or  two 
dozen  birds  in  time  for  a  late  dinner,  having  taken  exercise 
enough  to  keep  him  in  good  condition  until  again  tempted 
to  make  another  foray  '••  on  the  moors." 

On  one  occasion  when  Mr.  Webster  was  in  the  Senate, 
he  had,  in  company  with  a  bn^ther  senator,  waited  upon 
the  editors  of  the  National  Infelh'(jencer,  and  when  the  in- 
terview terminated  and  the  visitors  were  about  entering  their 
carriage,  Mr.  Webster  was  heard  to  make  this  remark  : 
"  Those,  sir,  are  two  of  the  wisest  and  best  heads  in  this 
country  ;  as  to  Mr.  (iales,  he  knows  more  about  tiie  liistorv 
of  this  government  than  all  the  political  writers  of  the  day 
put  together." 

Mr.  Seaton  had  a  special  fondness  for  horticulture  ;  and 
for  a  great  numy  years  he  cultivated  an  extensive  garden, 
which  was  acknowledged  to  be  the  most  elegant  affair  of 
the  kind  in  Washington  ;  and  in  this  delightful  taste  he 
enjoyed  the  hearty  synii)athy  and  co-operation  of  his  ac- 
complished wife.  Indeed,  his  love  of  nature  in  all  its 
as[)ects,  combined  with  a  fondness  for  sporting,  constituted 
a  leading  feature  of  his  character. 

That  he  left  not  a  stone  unturned  to  make  this  garden 
interesting  is  proven  by  tlie  fact  that  where  he  ex[)ended 
dollars  he  reaped  only  pennies,  and  also  by  the  following 
circumstance  :  During  one  of  his  visits  to  New  England, 
lie  tarried  a  day  in  Hartford  for  the  sole  purpose  of  ob- 
taining a  few  acorns  from  the  Charter  Oak,  and  having  been 


74 


IIAPirAZA  HD    VEHSONALITIES. 


successful,  plauti'd  jiud  nourislied  tlioin  wltli  care  ;  and  one 
or  two  years  before  his  death  lie  had  tlie  pleasure  of  pre- 
senting to  his  friends  a  nuin])erof  saplings  from  the  famous 
tree.  He  was  always  fond  of  making  little  presents  to 
tliose  whom  he  esteemed,  and  his  delicate  manner  of  mak- 
inji"  them  invnriablv  enhanced  tlieir  value. 

Although  tlie  intimacy  which  existed  l)etween  the  editors 
of  the  IntoUir/encer  and  Mr.  Webster  was  most  cordial  and 
of  long  standing,  there  was  something  like  brotherly  affec- 
tion in  that  between  Mr.  Seaton  and  tlie  great  statesman. 
They  sympathized  with  each  otiier  in  all  their  pleasures  ; 
read  the  same  books,  clierished  the  same  friends,  recalled 
to  a  great  extent  the  same  memories  connected  with  public 
men  and  events,  had  their  sporting  moods  in  common,  and 
probably  enjoyed  as  many  good  dinners  together  as  any 
other  men  of  their  time.  During  the  twenty  or  thirty 
years  of  Mr.  Webster's  residence  in  AVashington,  there 
was  no  private  individual  tlu're  with  whom  his  relations  of 
intimacy  were  so  close  as  those  with  Mr.  Seaton.  It  might 
be  added,  too,  that  there  was  no  person,  out  of  his  family, 
to  whom  he  was  so  much  attached.  A  part  of  almost 
every  evening,  when  not  engaged  at  home  or  elsewhere,  he 
spent  in  the  drawing-room  of  JMr.  Seaton,  with  the  ladies 
of  his  familv,  or  tcfe-d-tcte  with  him  in  winter  at  the  fire- 
side,  or  in  evening  strolls  in  summer. 

The  evening  preceding  the  delivery  of  the  speech  in  re- 
ply to  Colonel  Hayne  by  Mr.  Webster,  he  spent  with  Mr. 
Seaton  at  his  residence.  When,  near  midnight,  the  former 
was  about  to  leave,  the  latter  took  his  arm,  and  they  had  a 
pleasant  walk  to  Louisiana  Avenue.  On  arriving  at  his 
home  Mr.  Webster  took  Mr.  Seaton's  arm,  and  insisted 
upon  seeing  him  home.  The  scene  was  amusing,  but  Mr. 
Webster's  object  seemed  to  be  to  take  exercise,  enjoy  the 


WASniNOTON   IRVING. 


75 


conversation  of  his  friend,  and  look  upon  the  star-studded 
sky,  now  descanting  upon  the  wonders  of  astronomy  and 
then  repeatin<i;  passages  from  the  Iiil)le,  Virgil,  Shake- 
speare, and  jVIilton,  while  not  an  allusion  was  niaile  to  the 
impending  event  of  the  morrow. 

But  as  1  am  not  writing  a  book,  I  must  put  a  curb 
upon  my  memory,  and  bring  these  personal  reeoUeetions  to 
a  close.  As  (J ales  and  Seaton  spent  their  lives  in  writing 
for  the  public  w»ilfare,  they  had  but  little  time  to  indulge 
in  the  i)leasures  of  letter-writino;,  and  vet  a  collection  of 
their  letters  to  personal  friends  would  be  read  with  great 
gratification  ;  but  when  the  correspondence  addressed  to 
them,  on  all  sorts  of  subjects,  by  men  of  distinction  from 
every  part  of  the  country,  shidl  be  collected  and  published, 
as  it  sliould  and  })robably  will  be,  the  historical  lore  of  the 
Republic  will  be  enriched  to  a  rare  degree. 


1 


WASHINGTON   IRVING. 

I  WAS  a  lover  of  this  famous  man,  even  in  my  l)oyhood, 
and  he  was  my  friend  and  counsellor  in  later  years  when 
1  had  the  audacitv  to  follow  his  footsteps  in  the  world  of 
literature.  A  day  that  I  once  spent  with  him  in  Wash- 
iui2:ton  Citv  I  remember  as  one  of  the  most  deliuhtful  of 
my  whole  life.  In  a  private  letter  which  I  wrote  to  my 
friend,  Peter  Force,  I  gave  him  an  account  of  my  experi- 
ences, and  several  years  afterwards  he  printed  the  letter 
in  the  National  Intellir/oicer^  under  the  heading  of  "A 
Day  with  Washington  Irving,"  as  follows  :  — 

Washington,  Feb.  20,  18o3. 
My  dear  Sir., — Washington  Irving  has  been,  as  you 
are   aware,  the  lion  of  the  metropolis  for  more  than  a 


h 

II,.      .. 


It: 


76 


ilArilAZAUD    rEliSONALITIES. 


week,  ami  it  luis  been  my  rare  ii;oo(l  fortune  to  see  much 
of  him.  lie  came  here  for  tlie  piirpoHe  of  exaiiiiiiiiig  tlio 
Wasliiii<j,t()ii  [)Mi)crs  in  the  I)e[)artment  of  State,  and  he  is 
the  fijuest  of  his  frii-nd,  IIoii.  .lolin  V.  Kennedy.  My 
olllcial  [)().siti()n  in  tlie  department  has  made  it  my  duty  to 
treat  him  with  attention  there.  I  have  met  him  also  in 
company,  I  JKive  had  a  h)n^  talk  witli  him  in  my  quiet 
Utth'  library,  and  I  have  been  his  <ruide  and  companion  in 
a  visit  to  Arlington.  That  my  head  should,  therefore,  be 
full  of  itk'as  oathiMc'd  from  his  delightful  conversation  is 
quite  natural ;  and  the  fact  that  he  once  wrote  to  a  friend 
a  personal  letter  about  Sir  Walter  Scott,  would  seem  to 
sanction  mv  rcconlinii"  for  your  i>;ratifieation  a  few  para- 
graphs  ))earini>;  upon  his  own  private  habits  and  oi)inions. 
The  title  of  his  essay  was  "  Abltotsford,"  and  the  subject 
of  mine  shall  be  "A  Day  with  Washington  Irving,"  for  I 
propose  to  confine  myscilf  in  this  letter  to  what  1  obtained 
while  on  our  visit  to  Arlington. 

Hardly  had  our  carriage  ceased  rattling  over  the  stony 
streets  and  reached  the  long  bridge  across  the  Potomac, 
before  his  conversation  became  so  interesting  that  I  invol- 
untarily seized  my  note-book.  At  this  ])r()fessional  move- 
ment  he  smiled,  and  as  he  did  not  dennn*,  I  proceeded  to 
question  him  in  regard  to  his  literary  career  and  other  kin- 
dred matters,  the  substance  of  his  replies  being  as  follows  : 

He  was  born  in  Williams  Street,  New  York,  and  was 
first  sent  to  school  in  his  fourth  year.  The  first  books  he 
ever  read  were  "  Robinson  Crusoe,"  "  Sindbad,  the  Sailor," 
and  an  old  serial  called  the  "  World  Displayed."  His  first 
attempts  with  the  pen  were  made  in  his  thirteenth  year, 
and  consisted  of  rhymes,  which  were  soon  followed  by  a 
dramatic  sketch.  In  his  sixteenth  year  he  stopped  going 
to  school  and  became  a  lawyer's  clerk. 


. 


rr 


■Washin*(;ton  ikvino. 


77 


Williiim  Jordan,  of  the  London  TAterary  Gazette^  was 
one  of  Ills  carlii'st  and  Itewt  frit-nds.  lie  was  the  first  to 
repnlilish  some  of  tlie  stray  papers  of  the  "  Sketch- 1  look," 
and,  if  vou  will  ijardon  mv  eicotisin,  I  will  lierc  fix  the  faet 
that  tlic  Hrst  and  several  of  the  most  friendly  reviews 
ever  pnhlisJR'd  in  Knjj:l;»nd,  of  my  own  prodnetions,  were 
written  hv  the  same  distinLjuisluMl  crititr.  At  the  time  ' 
alluded  to,  Mr.  Irvinic  was  alloat  in  the  world,  and  de- 
pended upon  his  pen  for  a  living.  After  several  of  the 
essays  had  ap[)eared  in  the  (rnzcttc^  the  editor  recom- 
mended that  the  whole  collection  siionld  be  print<'d  in  a 
book  ;  and  this,  after  some  delay,  was  accomplished.  The 
book  was  offered  to  John  Murray,  but  was  declined. 
Walter  Scott  recommended  it  to  Archibald  Constable,  of 
Edinburgh,  and  he  was  ready  to  take  it,  but  in  the  mean 
time  Mr.  Irvini^  had  it  i)ublished  upon  his  own  venture. 
That  effort  proved  a  faihn-e  ;  but  the  work  was  subse- 
quently successful  wdth  the  miprint  upon  it  of  John 
Murray.  • 

At  this  success  no  man  was  more  astonished  than  him- 
self ;  and  when  an  American  critic  spoke  of  the  story  of 
".Rip  Van  Winkle"  as  a  futile  attempt  at  humor,  he  said 
he  was  more  than  half  willing  to  believe  his  jud<i;ment 
correct.  IndiiTerence  to  censure  and  ai)i)lause  had  never 
been  and  is  not  now  a  trait  in  his  character. 

On  questioning  ]Mr.  Irving  in  regard  to  "  Knickerbock- 
er's History  of  New  York,"  he  told  me  that  it  had  cost 
him  more  hard  work  than  anv  other  oi  his  writings,  though 
he  considered  it  decidedly  the  most  original.  lie  was 
often  greatly  peri)lexed  to  fix  the  boundary  l)etween  the 
purely  historical  and  the  imaginative.  The  facts  of  his- 
tory had  given  him  great  trouble. 

As  to  his  *'  Life  of  AVashiugton,"  which  has  been  so 


7« 


HArilAZAUn    PEIISONAUTIES. 


'I  ill- 1 


loiio;  cxpcfti'd  by  tlio  i)iil)lii;,  :in(l  which  was  iiniiouiK'cd 
coiitmry  to  his  winlu's  and  had  jj^ivtMi  him  uivat  annoyance, 
ho  Haid  ho  hardly  hcliovod  ho  would  over  soiid  it  to  ])rcHH. 
Ho  loyod  tho  suhjoct,  and  thoujrht  (irnt  of  writin<;  such  a 
work  tvvonty  years  a^o ;  but  so  many  ahlo  men  had  written 
nixm  it,  ho  did  not  Iteliovo  ho  could  sav  anvthin<!:  new. 
Many  jn'oplo  had  told  him  ho  ou^ht  to  write  it,  but  why 
should  he?  Ten  years  ajijo  ho  had  tho  work  all  written  in 
chapters  to  tho  inauguration  of  Washington  as  President, 
and  ho  could  finish  it  now  in  a  few  days.  JJut  ho  did  not 
like  it;  it  did  not  suit  him,  and  he  really  expected  to  put 
it  in  tho  firo  some  of  these  days.  Ilo  ought  to  have  com- 
menced it  forty  years  ago.  All  that  he  could  hope  to  do, 
that  would  1)0  now,  was  to  weave  into  liis  narrative  what 
incidents  ho  could  obtain  of  a  private  and  i)ersonal  char- 
acter, lie  su[)i)osed  some  people  thought  it  very  foolish 
for  him  to  bo  writing  any  book  at  his  time  of  life,  now 
that  ho  was  seventy  years  old,  ])ut  the  subject  Avas  in- 
tensely interesting  to  him,  and  ho  wished  to  write  it  for 
his  own  gratification.  lie  might  not  live  to  complete  it, 
but  hi)  would  try  what  he  could  do.  lie  must  l)e  doing 
something;  he  could  not  bo  idle.*  His  mother  was  an 
admirer  of  (leneral  Washington,  and  hence  the  name  she 
gave  her  son. 

With  regard  to  the  Washington  papers  in  the  l)ei)ai-t- 
ment  of  State,  he  said  he  had  found  very  little  in  them 
worth  printing  which  had  not  already  boon  pul)lished. 

Mr.  Jrving's  main  object  in  visiting  vVrlington  was  to 
gather  items  of  personal  information  about  Washington. 
Mount  Vernon  he  was  already  familiar  with,  and  counting 

*  The  first  volume  of  the  "  Life  of  Washington"  was  published 
in  the  summer  of  1855,  and  the  fifth  and  last  in  1859. 


WASHINGTON    IRVING. 


71) 


II) 


lie 


liii 


to 


much  upon  tin  interview  witli  ISIr.  ('iiHtin,  lie  was  not  din- 
appointed.  The  nunie  and  character  of  Wasiiiimton  he 
seems  to  love  and  admire  with  intensity  ;  he  looks  ii[)()n 
him  as  a  special  gift  from  (Jod  to  this  country,  and  [  liavi' 
n(»t  heard  our  great  author  speak  of  our  great  general 
without  emotion.  lie  says  that  every  American  shinild 
be  ])roud  of  the  memory  of  "Washington,  and  siiould  make 
his  example  and  his  wonderful  character  a  continual 
study. 

Our  mutual  friend  of  Arlington  House,  with  iiis  wife, 
received  Mr.  Irving  with  every  manifestation  of  regard, 
and  after  the  true  open-handed  and  open-hearted  \'irginia 
fashion.  The  pictures,  the  books,  and  the  furniture, 
relics  from  iMcunt  Vernon,  were  all  exhibited  ;  and  it 
seemed  to  me  that  Mr.  C'ustis  was  i)articularly  hap[)y  in 
expressing  his  ''  recollections  of  the  chief,"  which,  y(m 
will  remember,  is  a  i)et  phrase  with  our  friend.  But  Mr. 
Irving  himself  had  seen  General  Washington.  He  said 
that  there  was  some  celebration  going  on  in  New  York, 
and  the  general  was  there  to  participate  in  the  ceremony. 
"My  nurse,"  continued  INIr.  Irving,  "a  gocjd  old  Scotch 
woman,  was  very  anxious  for  ine  to  see  him,  and  iu'ld  me 
up  in  her  arms  as  he  rode  past.  This,  however,  did  not 
satisfy  her ;  so  the  next  day,  when  walking  with  me  in 
Broadway,  she  espied  him  in  a  shop,  she  seized  my  hand, 
and  darting  in  exclaimed  in  her  bland  Scotch,  '  Please, 
vour  Excellency,  here's  a  bairn  that's  called  after  ye!* 
General  AVashiiiii-ton  then  turned  his  ])enevolent  face  full 
upon  me,  smiled,  laid  his  hand  upon  my  head,  and  gave 
me  his  blessing  ;  which,"  added  Mr.  Irving,  earnestly,  "I 
have  reason  to  believe,  has  attended  me  through  life.  I 
was  but  five  years  old,  yet  I  can  feel  that  hand  upon  my 
head  even  now." 


<i  ■■ 


■ 


M 


QO 


HAPiTAZAKD   PERSONA LtTIES. 


Of  all  tl'^  pleasant  roiiiiiiiscences  which  Mr.  rrving 
brougiit  from  Arlington  House,  tlie  most  agreeable  one 
was  that  he  had  noticed  a  striking  j-esemblance  between 
Mrs.  Ciistis  and  his  own  mother.  The  latter  had  been 
dead  for  nearly  forty  years,  and  li','  liad  been  a  very  exten- 
sive traveller,  but  he  had  never  seen  a  face  toward  which 
his  heart  seemed  to  vearn  so  stronglv.  I  noticed  the  fact 
that  he  could  iiardly  keep  his  eyes  off  her,  and  he  thought 
proper  to  apologize  for  his  apparent  rudeness  by  alluding 
to  the  emotions  which  her  presence  excited  in  liis  breast. 
He  subsequently  accounted  to  me  for  the  resemblance  by 
analyzii,^-  tlie  peculiar  expression  of  the  eyes,  caused  by 
unusually  long  eyelashes,  all  of  which  seemed  to  be  con- 
firmed, in  my  opinion,  by  the  dreamy  expression  of  his 
own  eves.  From  the  tone  of  his  conversation  it  was 
apparent  that  liis  admiration  for  a  true  woman  Avas  un- 
bounded. He  said  that  he  never  tired  looking  at  them. 
It  had  always  been  his  custom,  when  travelling  over  the 
world,  to  take  particular  no':ice  of  the  women  whom  he 
mei,  especially  if  they  were  beautiful,  and  amuse  himself 
b}'  composing  stories,  purely  imaginary,  of  course,  in 
'vliicli  tiiey  conspicuously  figured. 

When  questioned  as  lo  his  mannt  :•  of  writing.  "Mr. 
Irving  gave  me  tiie  following  particulars :  He  usually 
wrote  w.ith  gi  'at  rapidity.  Some  of  the  most  popular  pjis- 
sages  in  his  books  were  written  with  the  utmost  ease,  nnd 
the  m'n*e  uninterestin.'^' ones  were  those  whicli  had  cost  him 
the  most  trouble  ;  at  one  time  he  had  to  labor  very  hard 
to  bring  up  one  part  of  an  essay  to  tire  level  of  another. 
He  never  allowed  a  thing  lo  go  to  press,  liowever,  without 
writing  it  or  overlooking  it  a  sec^ond  time  ;  he  was  always 
careful  about  that.  Several  of  the  papers  in  the  ''  Sketch- 
Book"  were  written  before  l)reakfast :  one  he  remembered 


:-'^-    ' 


WASniNGTON   HIVING. 


81 


especially,  "  Ihe  Wife."  j^t  one  time,  when  in  England, 
Thomas  Moore  callec"  upon  him  when  deeply  engaged  in 
writing  a  story,  and,  as  the  poet  saw  page  after  page  of 
Mr.  Irving's  manuscript  tlu'own  aside,  he  stepped  quietly 
into  the  room  and  did  not  speak  a  word  until  the  task  was 
ended,  when  he  said  he  thouglit  it  a  pity  to  disturb  a  mnn 
under  such  circumstances.  Tlie  first  things  he  ever  printed 
were  school  compositions,  wliich  he  was  in  the  habit  of 
sending  to  the  Weekly  3fiiseum,  a  little  quarto  journal 
published  in  New  York,  when  lie  was  a  boy  twelve  or 
fourteen  yt^ars  old.  Many  papers  that  he  sent  to  the 
printer  were  rejected,  but  those  assaults  upon  his  pride  did 
not  mnke  him  unhappy.  At  no  period  of  his  life  h  d  he 
ever  attempted  to  make  a  grand  sentence;  his  chie  "  ob- 
ject had  ]>een  to  utter  his  thoughts  in  the  fewest  possible 
words,  as  sinqile  and  i)lain  as  language  would  allow.  The 
only  poetry  he  had  ever  attempted  was  a  piece  entitled 
''  Lines  to  the  Passaic."  These  verses  were  written  in  an 
album  for  the  anmsement  of  a  party  of  ladies  and  gentle- 
men at  the  falls,  which  he  had  joined.  He  said  thcv  ought 
never  to  have  been  printed,  for  in  his  opinion  they  were 
very  poor,  very  poor  stuff. 

In  1802,  when  nineteen  years  of  age,  he  })ublished  in  a 
paper  called  the  Chronicle,  edited  l)y  his  l)r()ther,  a  series 
of  letters  over  the  signature  of  "Jonathan  Oldstyle,"  but 
these  productions  he  never  acknowledged.  In  consequence 
of  ill  health  he  went  to  Europe  in  1804,  and  after  his  re- 
turn to  New  York,  in  1807,  he  took  the  chief  part  in  Sal- 
magundi, was  assisted  by  his  friend  Paulding,  and  all  that 
he  ever  received  for  his  labors  was  one  hundred  dollars, 
while  the  publisher  pocketed  not  less  than  fifteen  thousand 
dollars.  "  Knickerbocker's  New  York  "  was  i)ublished  in 
1800,  some  of  the  early  editions  having  been  illustrated  by 
6 


82 


HArnAZAllD   PERSONALITIES. 


the  pencils  of  Allston  and  Leslie,  and  in  1813  he  edited 
the  "  Analeetie  Magazine,"  at  wliicli  time  he  became  a  staff 
officer  and  was  called  Colonel  Irvinijr.  The  years  in  which 
his  succeeding  books  made  their  appearance,  as  near  as  he 
could  remember,  were  as  follows  :  '•  The  Sketch-Book  "  in 
1.S18  ;  "  Bracebrido-e  Hall"  in  1822  ;  "  Tales  of  a  Travel- 
ler," 1824  ;  "Columbus,"  1828  ;  "  Conquest  of  Granada," 
1821);  "Alhambra,"  1832;  "Crayon  Miscellany,"  1835; 
"Astoria,"  183(;;  "Bonneville's  Adventures,"  1837; 
"  Oliver  Goldsmith,"  bSPJ  ;  and  "  INIahomet,"  1859.  The 
University  of  Oxford  mnde  him  an  LL.  D.  in  1831,  when 
he  was  secretary  of  legation  in  London  ;  and  the  date  of 
his  a})pointment  as  minister  to  Spain  was  1842,  the  siime 
having  l)een  conferred  without  his  solicitation.  The  lifty- 
guinea  gold  medal  conferred  upon  him  by  George  IV.  was 
for  histcM'ical  composition  ;  and  the  person  who  received  the 
other  medal  of  the  same  year  (1831)  was  Henry  Halhim. 

He  touched  upon  literary  me  i  generally,  and  a  bit  of 
criticism  on  Thackeray  seemed  tome  full  of  meaning;.  He 
liked  the  novelist  as  a  lecturer  and  a  man,  and  his  books 
were  ca})itMl.  Of  his  novels  lie  liked  "  Pendennis"  most ; 
"  Vanity  Fair"  was  full  of  talent,  but  many  passages  hurt 
his  feelings;  "  Esmond  "  he  thought  a  queer  affair,  but 
deeply  interesting.  Thackeray  had  (piite  as  great  talents 
as  Dickens;  but  Dickens  was  genial  and  warm,  and  that 
suited  him. 

On  h)okiiig  at  a  [)i(  taresque  group  of  children  by  the 
ro.'  '  'de,  he  w;is  reminded  of  ^Vilkie.  He  knew  the 
pamter  well.  Returning  fnmi  Italy,  AVilkie  had  heard  of 
his  being  in  Spain,  and  went  all  the  way  to  Madrid  to 
spend  a  couple  of  months  or  more.  He  spoke  of  the  art- 
ist as  an  honest,  1»lunt  mnn,  a  capit:d  j^ainter,  but  in  a  few 
of  iiis  Spanish  pictures  had  committed  the  error  oi  intro- 


WASHINGTOX   IRVING. 


88 


ducins:  Scotch  accessories.  When  in  Madrid  thcv  walked 
Ji  great  deal  together,  went  into  all  sorts  of  i)hi('es,  and 
the  painter  was  constantly  taking  sketches.  "  On  one 
occasion,"  said  ^Ir.  Irving,  "when  my  attention  had  been 
attracted  by  a  gandily  dressed  gronp  of  soldiers  and 
women.  I  turned  to  him  and  said,  '•There,  Wilkie,  there's 
something  very  fine  ! '  lie  looked  attentively  for  a  mo- 
ment, and  shaking  his  head,  hastily  rei)lied, '  Too  costumy, 
too  costnmv.'  The  fact  was  he  delighted  more  in  the 
rich  brown  of  old  rags,  than  he  d.id  in  ,he  bright  colors  of 
new  lace  and  new  cloth." 

Si)eaking  to  INIr.  Irving  of  a  headache  with  which  I  was 
sutfering,  he  remarked  that  was  a  thing  which  he  had  never 
exi)erienced.  Indeed,  he  thought  that  no  man  had  ever  lived 
so  h)ng  a  life  as  he  had  with  fewer  aches  and  pains.  lie 
mentioned  the  singular  fact  that  for  a  jx'riod  of  twenty 
years,  from  1822  to  1842,  he  had  not  been  conscious  of 
tiie  least  bodily  suffering.  A  good  dinner  was  a  thing  he 
had  always  enjoyed,  but  he  liked  it  plain  and  w'ell  cooked. 
In  early  life  he  was  very  fond  of  walking,  but  owing  to  a 
cutaneous  afl'ection  which  came  upon  him  when  in  S[)ain, 
hi^  ankles  were  somewhat  weakened,  and  he  luid  since  that 
time  taken  most  of  his  exercise  on  horsel)ack.  This  last 
remark  was  made  in  reply  to  the  surprise  which  Mr.  Cus- 
t!s  ex[)ressed  on  seeing  him  skip  up  a  fiight  of  stairs  three 
ste[)sata  time,  and  for  which  ho  apologized  by  saying  that 
he  freipiently  forgot  himself.  While  alluding  to  his  habits, 
he  remarked  that  a  quiet,  sedentary  life  agreed  with  liim, 
and  that  he  often  sat  at  his  writing-table,  when  at  work, 
from  four  to  six  hours,  without  ever  rising  from  his  chair. 
lie  also  avowed  himself  a  great  lover  of  sleep.  When  at 
home  he  alwa3's  took  a  nap  after  dinner,  but  somehow,  of 
late  years,  he  could  not  sleep  well  at  night.     lie  fivquently 


■ 


84 


HAPHAZARD   PERSONALITIES. 


spent  more  than  half  the  ni<2;ht  wakeful,  and  at  such  times 
he  was  in  the  habit  of  reading  a  great  deal.  He  said  he 
really  envied  the  man  who  could  sleep  soundly. 

I  iiad  a  siiort  talk  with  Mr.  Irving  al)out  the  copyright 
treaty,  wliicli  was  drawn  up  by  Messrs.  We])ster  and 
Cranipton,  and  is  now  in  the  hands  of  Mr.  Everett,  lie 
did  not  believe  it  would  ])e  ratified  by  the  Senate,  and 
spoke  in  rather  severe  terms  of  the  want  of  intelligence, 
on  purely  literary  matters,  of  that  distinguished  ])ody ; 
and  also  of  the  conduct  of  certain  publishers,  who  are 
doing  all  they  can  to  prevent  the  ratification  of  the  treaty. 

An  incident  related  bv  Mr.  Irvinii;,  going  to  illustrate 
*    the  character  of  Andrew  Jackson,  was  to  this  effect :  — 

When  secretary  of  legation  at  St.  James,  in  1831,  he 
was  left  by  Mr.  McLane  to  represent  the  country  in  the 
capacity  of  marge  (Vdjfaires  for  a  period  of  three  months. 
During  that  time  the  coronation  of  AV^illiani  the  F<^urth 
took  place,  and  his  expenses  were  unusually  heavy.  When 
he  came  home  he  presented  a  claim  for  one  hundred  i)ounds, 
whicli  was  a  smaller  sum  than  he  had  expended.  The 
President  said  there  was  no  law  providing  for  such  claims, 
but  ordered  the  pay  of  a  charge  for  the  time  employed. 
And  he  did  receive  it,  —  a  sum  amounting  to  more  than 
twice  what  had  been  prayed  for. 

]\Ir.  Irving's  feelings  have  recently  been  very  nnich  hurt 
])y  discovering  a  note  attached  to  one  of  his  letters  from 
Madrid  to  the  Department  of  State,  to  the  effect  tiiat  ]\lr. 
JNIcLane  told  ]Mr.  Trist,  that  he  (Mr.  I.)  originated  the 
idea  of  Spain's  offering  to  mediate  between  the  govern- 
inents  of  tiie  United  States  and  Mexico  during  tlu^  war  of 
184().  The  letter  in  question  states  explicitly  that  General 
Saunders,  who  succeeded  Mr.  Irving  as  minister  to  S[)ain, 
asked  him  to  speak  to  the  Spanish  government  on  the  sub- 


WASiIIN(iTUN    IRVING. 


So 


joft.  He  agreeil  witli  Ooiieml  Snundors,  and  tlioiiuiit  it  a 
i>«)()(l  oi)p()rtuiiitv  for  S[)iuii  to  do  soim'tliiiii»'  huiidsonu',  hut 
tho  idea  did  not  orii;iiiato  with  him.  The  pencil  note  on 
the  letter  contradicts  this,  and  jNIr.  Irving  has  been  further 
grieved  by  finding  that(ieneral  Saunders,  in  his  des[)at('hes, 
makes  no  acknowledgment  of  the  fact  that  he  re(iuested 
Mr.  Irving,  as  then  a  private  citizen,  to  suggest  the  idea 
nnoflicially  to  the  Spanish  government. 

During  our  morning's  conversation  we  touched  upon  the 
city  of  AV'ashington,  and  in  speaking  of  its  "  nuignilicent 
distances,"  Mr.  Irving  was  botli  amusing  and  severe  upon 
those  who  laid  it  out.  ])luing-out  here,  whic-  '  usiness  had 
been  near  killing  him,  was  very  disagree-;  sr  ,  large  par- 
ties particularly  so.  "  You  genei ally  Jia,.  to  take  your 
seat,"  said  he,  '•  at  six  o'clock,  and  as  you  are  sure  to  be 
seated  bv  the  side  of  some  one  whom  you  never  saw  or 
heard  of,  with  whom  you  nuist  keep  up  a  constant  talk  for 
three  hours,  the  time  thus  wasted  is  annoying  in  the  ex- 
treme, and  the  ostentatious  ccnirses  were  so  regular."  I>v 
watching  the  dishes  he  could  tell  exactly  how  far  the  enter- 
tainment  had  advanced.  And  everywhere  the  food  was 
cooked  in  precisely  one  manner.  He  tliought  that  one  man 
did  the  cooking  for  the  entire  town  ;  that  one  vintage  sup- 
plied the  wine,  and  one  confectioner  the  fancy  articles  in 
that  line,  for  they  were  always  stamped  with  one  name. 

But  enough.  Though  not  afraid  to  tire  you  with  pleas- 
ant reminiscences  of  a  man  universally  honored  and  be- 
loved,  my  selfishness  and  modesty  prompt  me  to  reserve  a 
portion  of  my  notes  of  Mr.  Irving's  conversation  for  fu- 
ture consideration.  A  few  of  his  statements  bearing  upon 
the  truth  of  history  were  full  of  interest. 

Yours  very  truly, 

Charles  Laistman. 

Peter  Force,  Esq.,  Washington. 


8G 


irAl'llAZAlll)    rKUSONALITIKS. 


The  siibjoiiu'd  corrosnondonce  is  intended  cliieflv  for  niv 
l)er.soii!d  friends,  ;ind  for  tliose  who  feel  so  great  im  inter- 
est in  W!isiiin«i;t()n  Irvinii;  tiiat  they  read  everytliin«»;  from 
his  pen  with  pleasure.  Sliould  my  modesty  be  (questioned 
for  printing  it  in  this  plaee,  1  can  only  reply  that  it  was 
the  "  Sketch-Book"  which  originally  incited  me  to  venture 
upon  tiu!  [)leasures  and  the  dangers  of  authorship ;  and 
that,  next  to  doing  some  little  good,  my  limited  ambition 
has  been  to  please  my  readers  ;  and  having  succeeded  in 
pleasing  the  Father  of  American  Liti'rature,  I  have  a  right 
to  be  gratiiied  and  thankful,  lint  the  letters  which  follow, 
exhibiting  the  writer  as  a  friend,  bring  out  here  and  there 
a  few  interesting  points  of  (;haracter  which  1  consider  the 
rightful  property  of  the  pul)lic,  and  1  submit  them  pre- 
cisely as  they  w^ere  written  and  without  any  connnents  of 

my  own  :  — 

SiTNNYSIDE  Oct.  15,  1847, 

My  dear  Sir,  —  T  w^^uld  not  reply  to  your  very  ol)liging 
letter  of  Sept.  10,  until  I  had  time  to  read  the  volumes 
which  accompanied  it.  This,  from  the  pressuie  of  various 
engagements,  1  have  but  just  been  able  to  do  ;  and  I  now 
return  you  thanks  for  the  delightful  entertainment  which 
your  summer  rambles  have  afforded  me.  I  do  not  see  that 
I  have  any  literary  advice  to  give  you,  excepting  to  keep 
on  as  you  have  begun.  You  seem  to  have  the  happy,  en- 
joyable humor  of  old  Izaak  AValton.  I  anticipate  great 
success,  therefore,  in  vour  "  Kssavs  on  our  American 
Fislu'S,"  and  on  "•Angling,"  which  I  truest  will  give  us  still 
further  scenes  and  adventures  on  our  great  internal  waters, 
depicted  with  the  freshness  and  graphic  skill  of  your  pres- 
ent volumes.  In  fact,  the  adventurous  life  of  the  angler, 
amidst  our  wild  scenery,  on  our  vast  lakes  and  rivers,  niust 
furnish  a  striking  contrast  to  the  quiet  loiteriugs  of  the 


imn||fl 


I 


WASHINGTON    IRVING. 


8; 


Englisli  niiolcr  Jiloiifz;  the  Trent  or  Dove,  with  country 
inilknijiids  to  .siiisj;  madrigals  to  liiiu,  and  a  simg,  dtrt'iit 
country  inn  at  night,  wiicrc  he  may  sleep  in  sheets  that 
have  ])een  hiid  in  hivcnck'r. 

With  best  wishes  for  vour  success,  I  am,  mv  dear  sir, 
Very  truly,  your  ol)liged, 

Washington  Irving. 

SUKNYSIDE,  Dec.  21,  1852. 

My  dear  Sir,  —  T  have  delayed  answering  your  letter 
until  I  could  acknowledge  the  receipt  of  the  work  which 
was  to  have  accompanied  it,  and  which  has  just  come  to 
hand,  having  been  lying  in  the  oftice  of  my  nephew  in  New 
York. 

I  have  been  reading  it  with  great  interest  and  satisfac- 
tion, 'i'he  peculiar  features  which  it  gives,  of  Air.  AVeb- 
ster  in  domestic  life  and  at  his  rural  home,  are  extremely 
endearing  and  calculated  to  enhance  the  admiration  caused 
by  his  great  talents,  and  eminent  services  in  his  public 
career. 

Accei)t  my  sincere  thanks  for  the  work,  and  for  the  kind 
expressions  of  3'our  letter,  and  believe  me, 

Very  respectfully. 

Your  obliged  friend  and  servant, 

Washington  Irving. 

SuNNYSiDE,  Jan.  23,  1853. 
Mff  dear  Sir,  —  I  am  glad  to  learn  that  you  intend  to 
publish  your  narrative  and  descriptive  writings  in  a  col- 
lected form.  I  have  read  })arts  of  them  as  they  were  pub- 
lished separately,  and  the  great  pleasure  derived  from  the 
perusal  makes  me  desirous  of  having  the  whole  in  my 
possession.    They  carry  us  into  the  fastnesses  of  our  raoun- 


88 


ir.Vl'lIAZAliO    I'KliSUNALlTlES. 


tains,  the  depths  of  our  forests,  the  watery  wilderness  of 
our  hikes  luid  rivers,  jijiving  us  pictures  of  Btivage  life  and 
savage  tribes,  Indian  legends,  fi«liing  and  hunting  anec- 
dotes, the  adventures  of  trappers  and  l)aekwoodsnien  ;  our 
Avhole  areanuin,  in  sliort,  of  indigenous  poetry  and  ro- 
mance ;  to  use  a  favoritxi  phrase  of  the  old  discoverers, 
they  lay  open  the  secrets  of  the  country  to  us." 
I  cannot  hut  ])elieve  vour  work  will  be  well  received,  and 


c; 


ith  th 


ih 


hich 


dlv 


meet 

With  best  wishes  for  your  success,  I  remain,  my  dear 
sir,  Yours,  very  trul>', 

Washington  Iiiving. 


SUNNYSIDK,  Aug.  24,  1855. 

My  dear  Sir.  —  I  am  verv  nuich  obli<>ed  to  vou  for  vour 
kind  offer  to  borrow  for  me  the  newspapers  cont;iining  ac- 
counts of  the  death  and  funeral  of  Washington,  l)ut  will 
not  task  your  kindness  in  that  respect,  as  I  have  at  hand 
copious  details  of  those  events  in  the  volumes  of  contem- 
porary newsp:ii)ers  in  the  New  York  lil)raries. 

1  shall  be  most  hnppy  to  see  .Mrs.  Lanman  and  yourself 
at  Sunnvside,  should  vour  excursions  bring  vou  into  these 
parts.  Yours,  very  truly, 

Washington  Irving. 


iliil 


SuNNYSiDE,  March  2, 1857. 
3fy  clear  Mr.  Lanman^  —  I  am  suffering  a  long  time  to 
elapse  without  acknowledging  the  receipt  of  a  coi)y  of 
your  work  which  you  have  had  the  kindness  to  send  me, 
and  ex[)ressing  to  you  the  great  delight  I  tnke  in  the  pe- 
rusal of  it.  But  when  I  ivmind  you  that  1  am  approach- 
ing my  seventy-fourth  birthday,  that  1  am   laboring  to 


WASHINGTON    HIVING. 


«U 


liiuiicli  thi;  fourth  volumo  of  mv  "  Life  of  Washiiii'toii,'* 
and  that  mv  table  is  loaded  with  a  continiiMllv  iiu'reasiiiijj 
iiuiltitude  of  unansweivd  letttTs,  which  I  vaiidy  endeavor 
to  cope  with,  I  am  sure  you  will  excuse  the  tardiness  of 
my  correspondence. 

I  hope  the  success  of  your  work  lias  l^een  equal  to  its 
merits.  To  me,  your  "Adventures  in  the  AVildts"  is  a 
continual  refreshment  of  the  spirits.  I  take  a  volume  of 
your  work  to  bod  with  me,  after  fagging  with  my  pen,  and 
then  ramble  with  vou  among  the  mountnins  and  bv  the 
streams,  in  the  boundless  interior  of  our  fresh,  unluickneyed 
country,  and  only  regret  that  I  can  but  do  so  in  idea,  and 
that  I  am  not  young  enough  to  be  your  companion  in  real- 
ity. 1  have  ttdvcn  great  interest  of  late  in  your  expedi- 
tions among  the  Alleghany  Mountains;  having  been 
campaigning  in  my  work  in  the  ui)per  part  of  the  Caro- 
linas,  es[)ecially  in  the  Catawba  ccMuitry,  al'-mt  which  you 
give  such  graphic  sketchings.  Keally,  I  look  upon  your 
work  as  'Avade  mecitm  to  the  Amei'ican  lover  of  the  pictur- 
esque and  romantic,  unfolding  U)  liim  the  wilderness  of 
beauties  and  the  varieties  of  adventurous  life  to  be  found 
in  our  tjreat  chains  of  mountains  and  svstems  of  lakes 
and  I'ivers.  You  are,  in  fact,  the  j^icturesque  explorer  of 
our  country. 

With  great  regard,  my  dear  Mr.  Lanniau, 

Yours,  very  truly, 

"Washington  Irving. 


\  ™ 


,  ! 


:    i 
1    !, 


SuNNYSiDK,  May  0,  18r)7. 
My  (h'xir  Mr.  Lanman,  —  I  have   been   too   thoroughly 
occupied  in  getting  a  volume  of    my  work  through  the 
press  to   acknowledge  at  an   earlier  date  your  letter  of 
March  24. 


ir 


90 


IIAIMIAZAKI)    riCKSONALITIES. 


T?('SjK'('tiii<r  your  letter,  wliieh  has  found  its  wmv  into  the 
l7if('//i(/<'ncer,  1  cjiu  only  any  tiiat  I  wish  you  hud  had  a 
wortliior  subject  for  your  biographic  pen,  or  that  I  luid 
known  our  conversation  was  likely  to  be  recorded.  I 
should  then  have  tasked  myself  to  say  some  wise  or  witty 
things  to  be  given  as  specimens  of  my  olf-hand  table  talk. 
Men  should  alwnys  know  when  they  are  sitting  for  a  por- 
trait, that  thev  niav  endeavor  to  look  handsomer  than 
themselves,  and  attitudinize. 

I  ani  scrawliui!:  this  in  great  haste,  merely  that  your  let- 
ter  may  not  remain  longer  unacknowledged,  and  am  very 
truly,  Your  friend, 

Washington   Iuving. 

SUNNYSIDK,  Aug.  24,  1858. 
My  dear  Mr.  Lannian,  —  I  have  no  intention  of  being 
absent  from  home  early  in  September,  and  will  Ije  most 
hap})y  to  receive  a  visit  from  you  at  Sunnyside. 

1  will  procure  the  information  you  desire  respecting  my 
brother  William,  from  his  son,  ^Ir.  Pierre  M.  Irving,  when 
he  returns  from  an  excursion  he  is  making. 

Yours  very  truly, 

Washington  Irving. 


Sunnyside,  March  28, 1850. 

My  dear  Mr.  Larwian^  —  Accept  my  thanks  for  the 
copy  of  your  "  Dictionary  of  Congress,"  which  you  have 
had  the  kindness  to  send  me.  Both  the  conception  and 
the  execution  of  the  work  do  vou  great  credit.  It  will 
remain  a  valuable  book  of  reference. 

AVith  regard  to  my  brother  William,  I  requested  his  son, 
Pierre  M.  Irving,  to  send  you  some  particulars  concerning 


GEOIKJK   PERKINS   MAUSII. 


91 


him  ;  l»iit  I  find  lie  loiiiot  to  do  so.     Your  notice  of  him, 
iiotwitlistaiidiiiji-,  is  i[mUi  siitisfuetory. 
AVith  great  regard, 

YourH  very  truly, 

Washington  Iuving. 


GEORGE   PERKINS   MARSH. 

My  acqnaiiitanee  witli  this  einineiit  seliolar  and  statos- 
man  Itegan  in  1<S11  (hn-iiigone  of  my  sunnner  tours  through 
Vermont;  and  soon  afterwards  I  had  the  ph'asure  of  pub- 
lishing a  brief  notice  of  him  in  one  of  my  boolvs. 

From  the  first,  and  probably  because  he  had  known  some 
of  mv  family  in  Coiniecticut,  he  took  an  interest  in  mv 
literary  plans,  gave  me  nmch  sound  advice  in  regard  to 
the  study  "of  the  En«>lish  lani>uai»:e,  and  also  on  matters 
connected  with  art ;  and  when  I  removed  to  Wasliington  in 
1848,  and  he  was  in  Congress,  his  house  became  to  me  v)ne 
of  the  most  agreeable  and  profitable  resorts  in  the  metro[)- 
olis.  Indeed,  his  treatment  of  me  was  so  uniformly  kind, 
that  I  consulted  him  in  regard  to  all  my  personal  as  well 
as  literary  affairs  ;  and  as  I  continued  to  enjoy  his  friend- 
ship, often  found  it  ditticnlt  to  decide  whether  his  great 
learning,  his  sound  practical  common-sense,  rare  integrity, 
or  his  warm-hearted  nature  was  the  predominating  element 
of  his  character.  His  knowledge  of  art,  in  all  its  phases, 
and  especially  the  histoiT  of  engraving,  was  most  com- 
plete ;  and  there  was  a  time  when  his  collection  of  proofs, 
after  the  great  masters  in  that  branch  of  art,  was  ihii  most 
complete  and  valuable  one  in  this  country  ;  and  it  has 
always  seemed  to  me  since  then  that  there  was  a  special 
propriety  in  his  being  permitted  to  spend  so  many  years 


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92 


HAPHAZAllD  PERSONALITIES. 


SHI 


of  his  lifo  in  Italy  as  it  was  his  privilege,  and  where  his 
services  were  eminently  honora])le  and  valuable  toliis  conn- 
try.  As  a  linguist,  —  for  he  could  write  and  speak  all  the 
leading  ancient  and  modern  languages,  —  and  especially  as 
a  Scandinavian  scholar,  his  fame  has  reached  the  cultivated 
people  of  all  climes  ;  but  it  is  not  so  generally  known  that 
his  li])raryof  Scandinavian  literature  was  at  one  time  quite 
unicpie.  To  what  extent  that  collection  has  been  scattered 
I  cannot  tell ;  but  a  portion  of  it  at  least  was  presented 
by  himself  to  the  University  of  Vermont,  and  it  will  be  my 
privilege  presently  to  give  an  idea  of  its  character  as  it 
existed  before  its  owner  entered  the  diplomatic  service. 
Another  portion  of  his  rare  library  consisted  of  several 
thousand  volumes,  and  was  also  presented  to  the  Uni- 
versity through  the  liberalit}'  of  Frederick  Billings,  of 
Woodstock. 

For  more  than  thirty  years  after  1833,  Mr.  Marsh  kept 
up  a  constant  correspondence  with  the  secretary  of  the 
Royal  Society  of  Northern  Anticpiarians  at  Coi)enhagen,  — 
Prof.  C.  C  llafn.  His  first  letter  Avas  written  in  English, 
but  all  his  subsequent  letters  were  in  Danish  ;  and  the 
professor  once  remarked  that  he  had  discovered  but  one 
error  in  INIr.  jMarsh's  letters,  and  that  was  a  mistake  in  the 
gender  of  a  noun.  He  was  one  of  those  rare  men  whose 
books  do  not  fully  represent  the  man  ;  in  his  gifts  and 
character  he  was  above  them  all ;  and  it  was  the  gen- 
eral opinion  of  his  friends  that  he  possessed  one  of  the 
broadest  minds  and  a  most  absorptive  memory.  It  is  also 
said  of  him  that  men  of  science,  army  and  navv  men, 
skilled  mechanics,  naturalists,  and  farmers  have  all  ex- 
pressed surprise  at  his  knowledge  of  the  affairs  to  which 
their  lives  were  devoted.  During  his  residence  in  Greece, 
he  was  authorized  by  his  government  to  defend  Dr.  Jonas 


GEORGE   PERKINS  MARSH. 


98 


King  from  the  unjust  restrictions  p>it  upon  him  by  the 
Eastern  authorities ;  and  when  he  dehvered  a  certain 
speecJi  in  modern  Greek,  in  Athens,  tlie  people  were 
astounded,  and  his  Ivuowledgc  of  their  hmgnage  a(hU'd 
greatly  to  liis  iiifluence. 

His  sympathies  were  so  completely  with  the  Goths  thut 
he  traced  to  their  presence  whatever  was  great  and  peculiar 
in  the  character  of  tiie  founders  of  New  Eni>land.  In  his 
work  on  the  Goths  he  contrasted  the  Gotliic  and  Konian 
characters,  which  he  regarded  as  the  great  antagonistic 
principles  of  society  at  the  present  day.  lie  was  not  only 
a  lover  of  Scandinavian  history,  but  the  lei>;ends  and  nivths 
and  w'cird  mythology  of  Northern  Europe,  as  well  as  its 
ocean,  coast,  and  mountain  scenery,  had  a  strange  fasci- 
nation to  his  mind,  and  he  was  entirely  familiar  with  them 
all.  Very  few  men  have  exercised  so  great  and  important 
an  influence  on  Ameri(!un  literature  as  Mr.  iVIarsh  ;  and 
when  we  add  to  his  character  as  an  autiior  what  he  has 
accomplished  in  the  field  of  diplomacy,  we  may  safely  class 
him  with  the  very  best  and  most  useful  public  men  of  his 
time.  As  minister  to  Turkey  ai-'d  Greece,  to  which  posts 
he  was  appointed  by  Presidents  Taylor  and  Fillmore,  and 
to  Italv,  he  served  liis  country  with  rare  success  for  more 
than  twenty-four  years,  rendering  essential  service  to  the 
cause  of  religious  toleration  in  the  Turkish  Empire. 

One  of  the  best  a[)pointments  made  by  President  Lin- 
coln was  that  of  Mr.  ^larsh  as  minister  to  Italy,  in  18G1. 
When  he  came  to  Washington  to  receive  his  credentials,  I 
met  him  frequently,  and  was  honored  by  receiving  again 
from  him  nuich  valuable  literary  advice.  IVIanv  hints  that 
he  gave  me  about  my  "  Dictionary  of  Congress  "  were  espe- 
cially important.  1  very  well  remember  his  advice;  in  regard 
to  st\le  in  writin<Xi  to  the  etfect  that  1  should  study,  with- 


Tf 


S^ 


94 


HAPHAZARD   PERSONALITIES. 


out  ceasing,  the  books  on  English  synonymes  by  Crabb, 
Blair,  Whately,  INIackenzie,  and  others  ;  and,  if  it  had 
been  published  at  the  time,  he  inioht  have  added  the  great 
work  on  the  English  Language  by  himself.  His  kind  in- 
terest  in  my  welfare  continued  without  ceasing,  and  on  the 
day  i)receding  his  final  departure  from  AVashington  he 
wrote  of  his  own  accord  an  earnest  letter  to  the  Secretary 
of  State,  William  II.  Seward,  recommending  my  appoint- 
ment as  librarian  of  the  Department  of  State. 

At  the  time  of  his  death,  which  occurred  at  Vallambrosa, 
Rome,  on  the  24th  of  July,  1882,  he  was  in  the  eight}'- 
second  year  of  his  age,  having  been  born  in  Wo(^dstock, 
Vt.,  March  IT),  1801.  lie  graduated  at  Dartmouth  Col- 
lege in  l.S2() ;  ado})ted  the  profession  of  lavr,  but  paid 
more  attention  to  books  than  to  the  practice  of  his  pi'ofes- 
sion,  which  he  might  have  made  lucrative  ;  entered  the 
State  Legislature  in  1825,  and  Congress,  as  a  representa- 
tive, in  1812;  first  went  abroad  as  minister  to  Turkey  in 
1841) ;  went  to  Greece  on  a  special  mission  in  18r*2  ;  and 
represented  the  United  States  as  a  diplomat  for  a  longer 
period  —  continuously  —  than  any  other  man,  not  except- 
ing lienjamin  Franklin  ;  and  while  the  heroic  State  of  Ver- 
mont may  well  be  proud  of  such  names  as  Allen,  liradley, 
Collamer,  Everett,  Foot,  Hall,  Lyon,  Pheli)S,  and  Ed- 
nuinds,  the  name  of  Marsh  will  do  more  to  perpetuate 
her  literary  fame  than  those  of  all  her  other  chihlreu 
combined. 

My  correspondence  with  INIr.  Marsh  was  quite  extensive, 
and  from  the  many  letters  in  my  ])ossession  I  sul)mit  the 
following,  which  contains  a  descri])tion  of  his  Scandina- 
vian library  ;  and  althougli  it  may  not  interest  the  average 
reader,  as  a  catalogue  written  out  at  one  heat,  from  mem- 
ory, it  is  to  my  mind  a  most  remarkable  i)roduction  :  — 


GEORGE   PERKINS  MARSH. 


m 


Burlington,  Aug.  11, 1844. 
Dear  Sir,  —  Since  I  luid  the  pleasure  of  meeting  you  at 
Danville,  I  have  spent  ])ut  three  da\'s  at  home,  and  have 
not  had  time  to  comply  with  your  request  in  regard  to  a 
description  of  my  little  collection  of  books  and  engravings. 
I  have  never  made  a  catalogue  of  either,  and  nnist,  there- 
fore, in  the  hurried  account  I  now  give,  rely  upon  memory, 
especially  as  my  engravings  are  chiefly  at  Washington. 
My  library"  consists  of  something  less  than  five  thousand 
volumes,  and  is  such  a  heterogeneous  collection  as  of 
course  so  small  a  one,  if  suited  at  all  to  the  purposes  of  a 
scholar  of  rather  multifarious  than  profound  reading,  ne- 
cessarily nnist  be.  It  is  meagre  in  all  departments  except 
that  of  Scandinavian  literature,  in  which  I  suppose 
it  to  be  more  complete  than  any  collection  out  of  the 
northern  kingdoms.  In  old  northern  literature  it  contains 
all  the  Arna-MaguJL'an  editions  of  the  Icelandic  Sagas,  all 
those  of  Suhum,  all  those  of  the  Koval  Societv  of  North- 
ern  Antiquaries,  and,  in  fact,  all  those  printed  at  Copen- 
hagen and  Stockholm,  as  well  as  in  Iceland,  with  scarcely 
an  exception.  I  possess  also  the  great  editions  of  "  Ile- 
imskringla,"  the  two  "  Eddas,"  "  Kongs-Skugg-Sjo," 
"■  Konunga  Styrilse,"  the  "  Scriptores  Rerum  Danicarum," 
"  Scriptores  Rerum  Svecicarum,"  "  Dansk  Magasin,"  the 
two  complete  editions  of  "Glaus  Magnus  Saxo  Gram-, 
maticus,"  the  works  of  ]iarsholinus  Torfa^us,  Schoning, 
Suhun,  Pontoppidan,  Grundtvig,  Petersen,  Rask,  the  "At- 
lantica"  of  Rudbeck,  the  great  works  of  SjoborgSiljegren, 
Geijer,  Cronholm,  and  Striimholin,  all  the  collections  of 
old  Icelandic,  Danish,  and  Swedish  laws,  and  almost  all 
the  writers,  ancient  and  modern,  who  have  tretited  of  the 
language,  literature,  or  history  of  the  ancient  Scandina- 
vian race.     In  modern  DanisJi  literature  I  have  the  works 


96 


IIAPITAZARD   TERSONALITIKS. 


of  IT()ll)erg,  Ewald,  Ilejboro;,  TJaggoson,  OclilcnKcliljvo^er, 
Ingt'inaim,  Nyerup,  witli  other  celGl)nite(l  aiitlio  -^ ;  in 
Swedish,  those  of  Leopold,  Oxenstjerua,  ])elhnann,  Fran- 
zen,  Atterl)orn,  Teguer,  Frederika  Bremer,  and  indeed 
almost  all  the  belles-lettres  authors  of  Sweden,  the  transla- 
tions of  the  Royal  Academy  of  Science  (more  than  one 
hundred  volumes),  those  of  the  Swedish  Academy,  and  of 
the  Royal  Academy  of  Literature,  and  many  collections  iu 
documentary  history,  ])esides  numerous  other  works.  In 
Spanish  and  Portuguese,  besides  many  modern  authors,  1 
haye  numerous  old  chronicles,  such  as  the  IMadrid  collec- 
tion of  old  "Spanish  Chronicles"  iu  7  vols.  4to,  the 
'^  Portuguese  Livros  ineditas  da  Historia  Portugueza,"  5 
vols,  folio,  Ternam  Lopez,  de  IJrito  Duarte  Nunez  do 
Liam,  Daiiiiam  de  Goes,  de  Parros  and  Conto,  Alhucjuer- 
que,  Castenheda,  Resende,  Andrada,  Osorio,  also  de 
Menezes,  Mariana,  Powz  Viagede  Espana,  Navarrette  and 
others  ;  in  Italian,  most  of  the  best  authors  who  hr  ve  ac- 
quired a  Eluropean  reputation  ;  several  hundred  volumes 
of  French  works,  including  many  of  the  old  Chroniclers  ; 
a  respectable  collection  in  German,  including  many  edi- 
tions of  "  Reyneke  de  Yos,"  the  "•  Nibelungen,"  and  other 
works  of  the  Middle  Ages ;  in  classical  literature,  good 
editions  of  the  most  celebrated  Greek  and  Latin  authors  ; 
and  in  English,  a  rci^pectable  collection  of  the  best  authors, 
among  which  I  may  notice,  as  rare  in  this  country,  many  of 
the  old  Chroniclers  (including  LordBerner's  "Froissart")  ; 
Roger  Ascham,  the  works  of  King  James  I.,  John  Smith's 
"Virginia"  (edition  of  1(>24),  Amadis  de  Gaul,  and 
Palmerian  of  England.  In  lexicography,  I  have  the  best 
dictionaries  and  grammars  in  all  the  languages  of  Western 
Europe,  and  many  biogrtiphical  dictionaries  and  other 
works  of   reference  in    various  languages.     I   have  also 


Si<l 


GEORGE    I'EItKINS   I'AUSH. 


97 


in 


\o 


J! 


many  works  on  ustroloirv,  alcliemv,  witclicraf t,  tind  inai»ic. 
and  a  considerable  collection  of  works  on  the  situation  of 
Plato's  "Atlantic"  and  the  "  Elvsian  Fields,"  such  as 
Kudheck's  "  Atlantica,"  "  Goropius  IJecanns,"  "'  I)e  ( Jravo 
I\ej)ul)li(iue  des  Champs  Ulysces,"  "  Ranuis  Uh'sses  et 
Othinus  unus  et  idem,"  and  others. 

In  the  department  of  art,  I  have  the  "  Musee  Fra^nais," 
"  Musee  Koyal"  (proof  before  letters),  "  l.iber  Veritatis," 
'  Houghton  Gallery,"'  "Florence  Gallery,"  '^  Fublications 
of  Dilettanti  Society,"  and  many  other  illustrated  works 
and  collections  of  engravings ;  the  works  of  Bartsch, 
Ottley,  Mengs,  most  of  those  of  Visconti,  Winckelniann, 
with  mnnerous  other  writers  on  the  history  and  theory  of 
art ;  old  illustrated  works,  among  which  I  may  mention 
"  Leuerdanck  "  (original  edition),  and  "  Der  Weiss  Uu- 
nig"  ;  and  many  thousand  steel  engravings,  including 
many  o'Mginals  by  AlberL  Diirer,  Luke  of  Leyden,  Cra- 
nach,  Aldegreuer,  Wierx ,  the  ►' adders,  Nautenil  (among 
others  tijirst  impression  of  the  celebrated  "  Louis  XIV.," 
of  the  size  of  life),  Nasson,  and  among  these  a  first  vm- 
'prcssioit  of  the  famous  "  Coui'te  d'Harcourt,"  or  Caf?t^^  a 
At  Perle,  Edelink,  Drenet,  INIarc  Antonio,  and  other  old 
engravers  of  tlie  Italian  school;  Callot,  Ostade,  l\em- 
brandt  (including a  most  superb  impression  of  the  "Christ 
Healing  the  Sick,"  or  tiie  hundred-guilder  piece,  the 
"  Goldeneigher,"  and  the  portrait  of  "  Kcnicr  Ansloo"), 
Waterloo,  Woolett,  Sharp,  Schmidt,  Longiii,and Morghen  ; 
in  short,  more  or  less  of  the  works  of  all  the  greatest 
maste?'s  in  chalcography,  from  the  time  of  Albert  Diirer 
to  the  present  day. 

The  above  is  a  very  imperfect  account,  ImtT  really  liavc 
not  time  to  make  out  a  more  complete  one. 

Mrs.  Peck  desired  to  retain  a  few  days  the  volume  you 


_«Jn 


fel 


t># 


98 


IIArilAZAUD   PEUSONALITIES. 


left  with  her,  and  I  am  sorry  to  say  has  not  yi't  sent  it 
home,  and,  of  course,  I  have  not  seen  it.  As  soon  as  I 
can  get  time  to  look  it  over,  I  will  write  you  on  the  subject. 
The  pictures  Mr.  Teck  took  appear  to  me,  though  not 
highly  finished,  to  indicate  much  artistic  talent ;  and  I 
trust  you  will  pursue  your  profession  with  an  ar(h)r  as 
inexhaustible  as  Nature  herself.  A  little  study  of  natural 
history,  particularly  of  botany,  on  the  natural  system, 
geology  (read  JacH's  "Principles"),  and  meteorology 
(see  the  works  of  Luke  Howard,  late  editions),  would 
prove  of  the  greatest  service  to  you,  and  as  an  aid  to  the 
cidtlvathn  of  the  eye  would  be  beyond  all  price.  Don't 
be  led  astray  by  Hazlitt,  who  was  but  a  coxcomb  in  mat- 
ters of  art,  after  all.  No  Englishman  ever  liaV  or  can 
have,  a  true  idea  on  the  theory  of  art. 

Mrs.  Marsh,  who  has  travelled  with  me  some  eight 
hundred  miles  in  an  open  wagon  without  benefit  to  lier 
eyes,  sends  her  compliments.  I  shall  at  all  times  be  glad 
to  hear  from  you,  and  to  be  of  use  to  you  in  any  way  in 
my  power.  I  hope  I  may  be  more  at  leisure  when  I  next 
have  occasion  to  wa-ite.  Keep  in  mind  the  distinction 
between  the  art  of  seeing  and  the  facult}'  of  sight,  for 
herein  lies  the  difference  between  the  artist  and  the  man. 
I  am,  dear  sir,  truly  yours, 

George  P.  Marsh. 

P.  S.  My  Icelandic  grammar  is  a  12mo  of  one  hundred 
and  fifty  pages,  partly  original,  partly  compiled  from  the 
works  of  llask,  and  was  printed  about  six  years  since,  but 
never  published. 

"With  regard  to  the  final  disposition  of  his  library  and 
proof  engravings,  a  part  of  them  was  secured  ])y  the 
Smithsonian  Institution,  at  the  time  he  went  to  Europe  to 


GEORGE  PERKINS  MARSH. 


99 


y 


reside,  but  the  lai-i2;(^st  and  most  valuable  part,  I  believe, 
was  retained  in  bis  possession. 

The  allusion  to  Danville,  in  the  forei>join<>j  letter,  recalls 
to  my  mind  one  of  the  most  delightful  mountain  trii)S  of 
mv  lonu:  exi)erienee  in  such  matters.  It  was  inaui»urated 
])y  i\Ir.  jNIarsh  himself,  wlio  was  accompanied  by  his  wife 
and  her  sister,  and  also  by  Senator  S.  S.  rht'l[)s,  and  the 
grateful  deponent.  With  all  his  natural  sedateness,  jMr. 
Marsh  was  the  life  of  tiie  party,  but  the  famous  senatorial 
orator  said  manv  thinos  which  were  enjoyable  in  tiie 
extreme.  The  scenery  that  we  passed  through,  made  up 
of  views  along  the  Connecticut  valley,  and  of  the  (Jreen 
and  White  Mountains,  was  very  beautiful,  and  every 
h)cality  of  special  interest,  like  Danville  itself,  was  made 
doul)ly  interesting  by  some  historical  fact  or  story  or  per- 
sonal incident  related  by  Mr.  INIarsh.  Evervthing  in 
nature  attracted  his  attention,  —  hills,  rivers,  trees,  way- 
side plants  and  flowers,  the  birds,  and  even  the  butterflies 
that  flitted  in  the  sunbeams  ;  and  when  n«)t  talking  after 
the  manner  of  an  artist,  his  comments  were  those  of  a 
philosoplier.  AVhen,  as  was  sometimes  the  case,  the 
senator  made  an  allusion  to  i)ublic  men  and  affairs,  lie 
would  expatiate  ui)on  the  doings  of  Congress  ;  and  when 
lie  mentioned  certain  prominent  names,  I  wondered,  in  my 
boyish  sim})licitv,  whether  Senator  Phelps  was  an  average 
specimen  of  the  great  men  of  America,  not  knowing  that 
very  few  of  them  were  his  erpial  in  intellect  and  character ; 
and  it  now  seems  to  me  like  a  dream  that  it  should  have 
been  my  fate,  in  process  of  time,  to  "  take  the  lives"  of 
at  least  five  thousand  of  those  wonderful  congressmen, 
Ix'fore  the  class  had  degenerated  to  what  we  see  it  in 
these  demagogue  days. 

In  the  way  of  art  criticism,  the  following  letter,  with 


I 


v'.l 


100 


IIAIMIAZARI)    PERSONA MTIKS. 


j 


its  {iiinisin<i^  ])aroutheses,  may  be  deemed  interesting,  jind 
is  certainly  instructive  :  — 

"RrRLTNGTOx,  April  21,  1S47. 

Dear  JSir,  —  You  will  lind  a  <l:ii:;uerreotype  of  Weir's 
Pilgrim  picture  at  Anthony's  rooms,  IJroadway,  next 
scjuare  above  the  Astor  House.  This  will  give  you  a  good 
idea  of  the  picture,  and,  what  is  fortuujite,  covers  the 
great  and  fatal  errors,  not  of  coloring,  but  of  arrange- 
ment of  colors,  in  the  picture  itself. 

llealv's  excellences  are  manifold.  I  have  onlv  seen 
his  portniits.  In  these  he  is  successful  far  above  any 
living  American  artist  in  seizing  and  portniying  the  Ix^st 
characteristic  expression  of  his  sitter.  With  api)arent 
(only  apparent)  carelessness  of  outline  nnd  finish,  he  is 
the  only  living  American  painter  known  to  me  who  gives 
to  the  skin  the  semi-transparency,  the  partial  permeability 
to  light,  which  all  untanned  (I  don't  mean  un-.s'«n-tanned, 
but  un-oa^'-6a>7t-tanned)  human  skins  more  or  less  pos- 
sess. Look  at  one  of  his  faces  ;  you  see  thi'rein  a  skin, 
not  of  painted  tin,  but  organized  with  cuticle  rete  ntKcosinn 
veins  (not  varicose,  neither),  and  the  Devil  nnd  mII,  just 
as  in  life.  What  is  more,  under  that  same;  skin  thert^  is 
flesh,  muscle ;  more  yet,  beneath  the  integuments  is  a 
skull,  and  that  not  of  plaster,  but  real  bone  madv'  of 
phosi)hate  of  lime  (I  believe  it  is),  and  what  not.  His 
portrait  of  myself  (the  greater  the  subject  the  greattT 
the  work)  is   his  ojius  maymim  *   (that's   Latin  for  chef 

*NoTE. — You  are  a  youuii;  writer.  Learn  to  profit  hy  tlie 
exampie  of  your  seniors.  Observe  liow  skilfnlly,  after  Iiavin^ 
spoken  somewhat  l)oastfully,  perhaps,  of  myself,  I  suddenly 
draw  the  attention  of  my  correspondent  away,  and  prevent  him 
from  dwelling  on  this  little  outl»nrst  of  vanity,  —  shall  1  call  it? 


J 


OEOROE    PEKKINS    MAUSn. 


101 


IS 


d^oeuvre,  Jiiul  tluit  is  Froncli  for  inastorpicce,  which,  si^niii, 
is  as  one  sliould  say  iu  your  vornacuhir,  Potttiwjittuinie  — 
iio-f»uin-<j;c)-qn:i.  l*erhni)s  that  isn't  the  word  ;  1  am  not 
(juito  sure.  If  not,  1  am  liberal,  make  it  ri<j;ht),  or  there- 
abouts. A  good  antitoniist  shall  take  that  portrait  iind 
draw  (supposinji;  him  a  dn.uiihtsman)  a  skull  therefrom, 
which  shall  be  a  true  counterfeit  i)reseutment  of  mine  own 
hereafter,  at  some  late  day  (not,l  hope,  before  A.  D.  11M7), 
to  be  exhibited,  like  Oliver  Cromwell's,  in  some  cranial 
nuiseuui.  JNIoie  thini»:s  I  have  to  sav,  ])ut  not  time.  Wait 
until  I  write  you  again  from  Boston,  on  Thursday  (nuiy 
be  Friday),  this  day  eight  days  (luy  wife  will  be  there), 
when  I  will  rewrite  and  ex})aud  (I'll  keep  a  co])y  and 
})erhai)s  spoil,  as  Charles  Lamb  did  when  he  extended  his 
letter  al)out  the  pig  to  the  essay  on  Koast  Pig)  this  letter. 
One  thing  more.  Speakiug  of  gnus,  don't  forget  to  say 
that  an  anouymous  gentleman  (videlicet  myself),  being 
asked  to  visit  Leutze's  libellous  })icture  of  the  Iconoclast 
Puritans,  refused,  saying,  he  had  read  so  many  printed 
lies  about  the  Puritans  that  he  did  not  care  to  see  a 
painted  one.  When  I  write  again,  1  shall  say  more  of 
Weir  as  well  a*::  of  Healy. 

Yours  trulv,  • 

GkopvCE  p.  Maksit. 


IS 


ly 

m 


P.  S.     I  thank  you  prospectively  foi-  the  book ;  also, 
don't  get  too  strongly  connnitted  for  Clay. 


—  by  imputing  to  him  some  very  recondite  iinrl  valuable  philo- 
logical inforinati^>n.  If  you  work  on  art,  I  .  .  .  should  tempt 
you  to  speak  all  too  flatteringly  of  Lanman,  late  landscape 
painter.  My  own  example  herein  may  at  the  least  furuisli  you 
valuable  hints  as  to  the  mode  of  doing  yourself  (what  perhaps 
others  won't)  justice  in  nn  inoffensive  way. 


i 


102 


IIAPHA/AUI)    rEU.SOKALITIKS. 


In  the  following  letter  he  continues  his  critieisins  on 
art :  — 

FiT(MiiiUR(j,  May  <^),  1-^47. 

Dear  /Su%  —  UHicn  I  sent  you  thut  luuTied  scrawl  from 
liurlinglon,  I  faillifully  i)uri)()S('(l  to  write  you  more  at 
length  from  l»oston,  where  I  liopi'd  to  meet  both  Ilealy 
and  liis  works  ;  and  truly  I  had  done  so,  but  the  cares  ol 
this  world  sprung  up  and  i)i'evented  me. 

I  saw  at  Boston  licither  Ilealy  nor  any  of  his  j)ictures, 
nor  have  I  nnich  lo  add  to  what  I  wrote  before,  except 
that  his  friends  agrv'i^  in  saying  that  lie  is  rapidly  improv- 
ing. Vou  know,  I  sui.i)ose,  that  he  is  engaged  upon  a 
great  picture,  '•  Webster  Keplying  to  Ilayne,"  for  gentle- 
men in  Jioston.  1  have  seen  the  sketch,  which  seems  to 
pi'omise  nnicli  for  the  picture,  as  well  as  m.'iny  of  the  i)or- 
traits  i)ainted  as  studies,  and  have  no  doubt  that  as  a, 
sti'ictly  historical  (not  imaginative,  mIucIi,  fi'om  the  natui'c 
of  the  subject  tind  tlie  nearness  of  the  })eriod  of  tlu^  ao 
tion,  it  can  ])e  to  but  n  very  limited  extent)  picture,  it  will 
rank  above  anything  American  art  has  [jroduced.  The 
locahty —  the  Senate  Chamber —  is  not  u  very  [)ictures(pie 
one,  but  the  (h'aperies  of  the  huhes'  shawls  and  other  femi- 
nine gear  may  l»e  so  used  as  to  break  the  stiffness  of  the 
liallerv  :  and  there  is  room  for  much  varietv  in  the  ar- 
rangement  and  grouping  of  the  audience,  us  well  as  in  the 
management  of  light  and  shade.  The  study  of  Webster 
himself  is  nuieh  the  best  likeness  of  that  wonderful  head 
vet  painted.  ' 

One  of  his  best  things  is  his  Jackson,  painted  dui'ing 
the  last  four  days  of  the  old  man's  life.  Painful  it  is,  of 
course,  as  any  truthful  representation  of  a  dying  man  must 
he,  hut  it  is  of  rare  excellence.  It  is  a  front  view,  one 
side  of  the  face  in  shade,  most  capitally  transparent,  and 


I 


GEOROE    PKRKINS    MARSH. 


103 


in  coloring,  cxprowsion,  jittitiulo,  drupcrv,  most  sidinirably 
luiniionioiis.  Vou  iimy  si'c  ii  <;o()(l  inliiiiituro  copy  tit 
Dubourjiil's  room,  lirojuhviiy.  The  ()rl<»;iiuil,  jis  well  as 
many  others  of  Ills  best  portraits,  was  painted  for  Kiui^ 
Louis  Philippe,  who  hus  been  a  very  liberal  paUon  to 
llealy. 

You  have  by  this  tlnu^  seen  the  da<jjucrreotyj)e  copy  of 
Weir's  i)i('turi',  and  I  need  say  nothinu;  of  the  drawini!;  or 
composition.  It  was  ut  first  phiced  in  the  worst  liiilit  in 
the  Rotunda,  l)ut  a,  very  judi(Mous  exchan<>e  was  made  last 
spring  ])etween  Weir's  paintinjj;,  and  that  poor  l)ald  (hud) 
of  Chupmun's,  by  which  l)()th  werei»reat  ij;ainers,  —  Weir's 
being  seen  to  nmch  bi'tter  advantage,  and  Chapman's  no 
longer  in  (hinger  of  l)eing  seen  at  all.  I'lie  i)riMcipal  crit- 
icism on  this  picture,  Avhich  the  daguerreotypi;  will  not 
sui>:<>est  to  vou,  is  the  extremelv  faultv  {irrungement  of  the 
coh>rs,  the  centre  of  the  i)iece  and  of  the  action,  which 
slujuld  also  be  the  focus  of  attracticm,  ])eing  colored  in 
one  almost  imiform  stone  dead,  dark,  gloomy,  repulsive 
tone,  and  all  the  warm  and  pleasing  colors  thrown  to  the 
extremities,  the  circumference  of  the  canvas.  If  this 
capital  error  had  been  avoided,  and  the  stiff  attitudt;  and 
awkward  pose  of  the  head  of  one  of  the  kneeling  male 
figures  (I  have  forgotten  the  name)  corrected,  i  think  the 
picture  would  liave  been  universally  allowed  to  i)ossess 
merit  of  a  very  high  order. 

I  am  now  on  my  way  to  liurlington,  and  hope  to  fuid 
your  book  there  on  luv  arrival. 


iHlj 


Yours  truly, 


Georoe  p.  Marsh. 


Having  sent  a  copy,  soon  after  its  appearance,  of  Mr. 
Marsh's  book  on  the  "  Camel,"  to  the  London  "  Athenreum," 


104 


HAPHAZARD   rEllSONALTTTES. 


|i|( 


I     ■■ 


iiiid  tlie  revie»v  wbicli  followed  having  l)een  sent  by  me  to 
the  author,  lie  rotnriied  the  following  reply  :  — 

BujiLTXfJTOX,  Sojit.  21,  1850. 

Dear  Sir, —  1  am  ninch  obliged  to  you  for  sending  me 
the  "Athenamm."  more  still  for  writing  the  review  of  my 
little  l)ook,  if  indeed  voii  did  write  it.  The  i)rol;al)ilitv 
lli:it  you  might  hnve  done  so  struck  me  at  first;  ])ut  upon 
repernsing  the  :;rtiele,  it  seemed  to  nie  so  English  in  Its 
toneth:itI  iuirdlv  thouuht  it  could  he  the  work  of  a  brother 
Vankee.  I  believe  it  has  been  favorably  mentioned  in  the 
critical  notices  in  the  '•  North  American  Review,"  Init  that  I 
have  not  seeu.  With  that  exception,  none  of  the  critiiiues 
u[)on  it,  exce[)t  this  in  the  "Athenieum"  (tliough  some  of 
them  have  ])een  complimentary  enough),  have  siiown  tiny 
intelligent  appreciation  of  the  char;u;ter  of  the  book.  It 
is  <>'.i<l  thnt  nobody  here  had  the  wit  to  perceive  that  J  avms 
(luoting  mvself-  iu  ]nv  extracts.  Now  that  it  has  an  En<>'- 
lish  mnrk  of  appreciation,  it  may  sell  better.  Hitherto 
there  has  been  no  demand  for  it. 

I  am  glad  you  are  collecting  your  w'orks  in  a  more  per- 
manent form.  I  suppose  you  don't  spare  tlie  labor  of 
revision  and  improvement.  Not  that  yf)ur  writings  par- 
ticularly iieed  it,  but  as  AVi(h)w  Bedott  says,  '"lis  are  all, 
poor  creatures,"  and  perliaps  you  may  have  nodded  some- 
times, as  well  as  the  l)lind  old  heathen  Homer. 

Well,  Fremont  will  be  elected,  won't  he  ?  Fine  stampede 
at  Washington  about  the  4th  of  March  next!  How  the 
rats  will  come  and  go  \ 

Very  sincerely  yours, 

Geo  ROE  P.  Marsit. 

AVhen,  in  18r)8,  T  was  preparing  for  publication  the  first 
edition  of  my  ••'  Dictionary  of  Congress,"   I   appealed  {  > 


GEORaK    rKKKINS   MAR8TT. 


105 


Mr.  Marsli  for  some  fuels  about  eorUiiu  Yermout  men,  and 
he  sent  me  the  following  rei)ly  :  — 


22  IlNivniiisiTY  Place,  Xew  York, 
Dec.   U,  1S,-,S. 

Ih'iii-  Ldumav,  —  Youis  of  the  .'Ul  did  not  reach  me  till 
four  oi'  live  days  after  its  dnle,  and  the  eyesi<»lit  wiiich 
:iii  iulliinnuatiou  of  tlie  evt;  Jims  left  at  mv  disposal  lias 
been  so  completely  absorbed  in  the  pre[)aration  of  my 
lectures,  tli:»t  I  h;ive  bt^en  unal)le  to  reply  till  now. 

The  two  lleman  Aliens  were  remotely  connected  witli 
each  other,  and  both,  I  believe  (11.  Allen,  of  Colrhcsfcr^ 
minister  to  Chili,  who  died  at  IIi<»huate,  certainly),  witli 
the  Ethan  Allen  family,  but  1  have  at  hand  no(luu<j  to 
which  I  can  refer  to  fix  any  fact,  in  relation,  with  precision, 
lleman  Allen,  of  Colchestei",  was  V .  S.  marshal,  member 
of  Congress,  and  minister  to  Chili,  but  never  distiniiuislicd 
for  anythino-.  lleman  Allen,  of  Milton  (afterwards  of 
Bennington) ,  was  an  eminent  lawyer,  elected  to  Congri'ss 
in  18.'32,  on  the  eleventh  ballot  (the  law^  then  retiuiring  a 
full  majority).  He  was  a  very  rjseful  member  of  the 
Committee  of  Claims,  and  commenced  the  investigation  of 
the  famous  Virginia  claim,  so  successfully  continued  by 
Mr.  Ilall,  of  Yermont,  at  a  later  period.  T  am  ashamed  to 
say,  1  can,  without  reference  to  documents  to  which  1  have 
not  now  access,  add  nothing  to  th.ese  meagre  facts. 

T,et  me  advise  you  to  consult  George  F.  Houghton,  Esq., 
of  fSt.  Albans,  Yt.,  who  will  giveyou//^//  information  on 
all  points  connected  with  the  lives  of  tliese  gentlemen. 

I  shall  be  ver^'^  glad  to  afford  you  the  aid  you  desire. 
My  engagements  and  the  state  of  my  eyes  would  not  nl- 
low  me  to  correct  printed  proof;  but  if  you  desire  me  to 
go  over  your  manuscript,  I  will  do  so,  unless  you  wish  it 


i;!*i 


^fS" 


106 


IIArilAZAIlI)    rEIlSONALITIES. 


i 


!i  ft  i  I 


llllf. 


read  more  rapidly  tliaii  T  could  go  through  it,  with  my 

present  occupations. 

Yours  truly, 

Geokge  p.   Marsh. 

As  a  man,  a  citizen,  and  a  husband,  aside  from  his  intel- 
lectual accpiirenuMits,  jNIr.  INFarsli  was  all  tliat  could  ])e  de- 
sired. He  was  liberal  with  his  means.^  too  much  of  a  nol)le- 
man  to  be  narrow-minded  and  selfish,  and  always  readv  to 
do  his  utmost  to  pron  ote  the  welfare  of  his  fellow-men. 
When  he  took  an  interest  in  politics,  it  was  -is  a  statesman, 
and  the  hem  of  his  garment  was  never  stained  ])y  contact 
with  the  debasing  demagogism  of  the  times  ;  and,  although 
he  had  no  children,  he  was  thrice  blessed  in  the  possession 
of  a  most  noble  wife.  Her  maiden  name  was  Caroline 
Crane,  and  she  was  his  faithful  helpmate  for  forty-four 
years.  That  she  was  capable  of  sympathizing  with  him 
in  his  intellectual  pursuits  is  abundantly  proven  by  the  fact 
that  she  translated  a  novel  from  the  Geinian,  called  ''The 
Hallig,"  which  was  successful,  and  also  published  a  volume 
of  i)oems.  For  many  years  her  health  was  exceedingly 
delicate,  and  \  very  well  remember  that,  on  a  certain  day 
prior  to  their  leaving  Washington  for  Euroi)e,  she  was 
broui>ht  l)v  her  husband,  in  his  arms,  into  the  drawinu^- 
room;  and  it  was  chiefly  owing  to  his  long-continued  and 
tender  care  that  her  subsecpient  life  Avas  comfortable  and 
hapi)y.  During  hei'  long  residence;  in  Italy,  she  spent 
very  nuicli  of  her  time  and  thoughts  and  money  in  the 
cause  of  charity,  and  often  administered  to  the  needy  by 
proxy,  when  too  ill  t'   leave  her  own  bed. 

Having  noticed  ^^  t  some  curious  errors  have  crept  into 
the  papers  in  rej;cird  to  the  books  published  by  Mr.  JMarsh, 
I  submit  a  list  of  them  which  I  presume  will  be  found 
accurate  :  His  Icelandic  grannnar  was  printed  in  18.'}8,  but 


'l  <1 


GEORGE   PKllKINS   MAUSII. 


107 


never  published;  "The  Camel,  etc.,"  appeared  m  1856; 
"  Lectures  on  the  Enghsh  Lauf^uage  "  and  "  Wedgwood's 
Etymology,  Annotated," in  1801  ;  "Origin  and  History  of 
the  English  Language,"  1802  ;  "  Man  and  Xiitinv,"  18G  1 ; 
and  it  was  this  last  production  which  the  author  amplilicd 
and  iniblished,  in  1871,  under  the  title  of  "The  Earth  as 
iModillcd  1)V  Human  Actions,"  and  which  was  translated 
into  Italian.  But  the  reviews,  essays,  and  speeches  which 
were  published  in  i)amphlet  form  would  make  many  ad- 
ditional volumes  ;  and  there  are  reasons  for  believing  that 
other  valuable  productions  from  his  pen  will  hereafter  be 
given  to  the  world.  A  course  of  lectures  that  he  delivered 
before  the  post-graduates  of  C*olumbi:i  College  have  been 
connnented  upon  as  unequalled  by  any  others  ever  de- 
livered in  this  countrv,  and  vet  he  used  to  say  that  his 
audiences  on  those  occasions  were  almost  invisible,  —  a 
sad  connnentary  on  the  intellectual  tastes  of  our  people. 

Among  the  many  warm  personal  friends  of  ]Mr.  .Marsh, 
there  was  not  one  who  remained  more  devoted  than  Senator 
(Jeorge  F.  Ednnnuls.  It  was  partly  through  his  influence, 
undoubtedly,  that  the  di[)lomatic  scholar  was  permitted  to 
spend  so  many  years  in  foreign  countries.  And  tln>rebv 
hanii's  tills  little  story  :  As  INIr.  JMarsh  was  not  a  ])olitical 
l)artisan,  but  known  to  have  a  conteni[)t  for  all  dema- 
gogues, "vpeated  efforts  were  made  to  have  hli  i  recalled,  but 
his  faithful  senatorial  fi'iend  ;dwavs  sciuelched  the  unworthv 
etforts.  This  feeling  of  animosity,  it  is  said,  at  one  time 
permeated  the  l)e[)artment  of  State.  In  one  of  his  de- 
spatches from  Italy  the  minister  thought  pro[)er  to  append 
in  cipher  his  very  decidc'd  and  unfavorable  oi)inl()ns  in 
regard  to  the  Italian  government,  which  were,  of  course, 
intended  to  be  confidential  ;  but  when  this  despatch  made 
its  appearance  in  the  regular  volume  of  published  corre- 


108 


IIAl'IIAZARD    TEUSONALITIES. 


\H''\ 


Mr:  i 


spondoncu,  it  wjis  foiiiid  that  the  cipher  desptitch  alhided 
to  had  been  trtiiishited  tiiid  publislied.  From  every  point 
of  view  this  con(hict  was  improper  ;  l)iit  the  motive  at  the 
bottom  of  the  whole  business  (and  sehisli  motives  are  very 
connuon  in  Wasliington)  was,  that  the  JtaUan  govern- 
ment wouhl  l)e  angry  and  naturally  insist  upon  the  recall 
of  rdr.  INIarsh  ;  the  excuse  given  for  this  improper  publi- 
cation having  been  that  it  was  a  mistake.  It  was  a  mis- 
take, and  of  the  sort  allied  to  a  crime.  In  the  mean  time, 
however,  JNIr.  JMarsh  continued  to  perform  his  diplomatic 
duties  without  fear  or  favor,  and  after  the  manner  of  a 
true  man. 

AVhen  1  recall  the  career  of  this  eminent  scholar,  I  am 
impressed  with  the  harmony  of  his  life  as  well  as  of  its 
ending.  He  left  college  fired  with  a  desire  to  acquire 
knowledge  fnnn  the  study  both  of  books  and  nature,  and, 
whether  following  tho  profession  of  law,  or  serving  his 
country  as  a  statesman  or  dii)lomat,  he  never  varied  tnmi 
his  orignal  purpose.  He  first  saw  the  light  in  one  of  the 
beautiful  valleys  of  Vermont,  and  he  died  in  an  equally 
beautiful  valley  among  the  Apennines,  almost  within  the 
shadow  of  the  most  ancient  seats  of  learning.  In  his 
early  prime,  his  mind  revelled  among  the  historical  records 
and  wild  sceilery  of  Scandinavia  ;  it  was  then  his  privilege 
to  travel  extensively  throuoh  the  countries  borderinir  on 
the  INIediterranean  ;  and  when  the  shadows  of  his  life 
were  lengthening,  Providence  gave  him  a  pleasant  home 
mider  Italitin  skies,  where  he  died,  and  where  his  grave  is 
certain  to  be  visited  with  love  and  veneration  by  thou- 
sruds  of  his  countrymen  iu  future  years.  


WILLIAM   CULLEN   lilHANT. 


109 


WILLIAMS!   CULLEN   BRYANT. 


II 


I  FIRST  became  acqciaintod  witli  tliis  cole!  rated  poet  and 
noble  iientleman  in  the  year  18'6H,  and  the  affection  1  felt 
for  Ills  -writiniis  as  a  boy  lias  ever  remained  unchanued. 
Many  of  his  poems  are  so  pnre  and  trne  to  mitnre,  that 
the  old  and  younii;,  and  esi)eciallv  the  thonii'htful  in  eyerv 
sphere  of  life,  haye  ac(piired  a  regtird  for  them  allied  to 
their  love  of  flowers  and  ])rii2;ht  skies,  the  woods  and 
monntiiins,  and  the  various  charms  which  characterize  the 
seasons  of  the  year,  lint  he  also  attaint'd  the  hiahest 
rank  as  a  writer  of  prose,  whether  giving  his  impressions 
as  a  toui'ist,  deMvering  addresses  on  subjects  connected 
with  literature  and  art,  or  connnenting  upon  the  politics 
of  the  day,  in  the  joui'ual  which  he  conducted,  with 
unsurpassed  judgment  and  ability.  The  fact  that  he 
should  have  been  the  editor  of  a  single  newspaper,  the 
Evening  Post,  for  about  half  a  century,  is  unparalU'led  in 
the  liistory  of  journalism  in  this  country,  excepting  in 
the  case  of  .b)scph  dales  and  the  Xatimial  LifcUifjencer ; 
•and  when  we  remember  that,  dui'ing  all  this  period,  his 
sincerity  of  purpose  in  advocating  his  political  o[)ini()ns, 
and  his  integrity,  were  never  questioned,  it  is  not  to  be 
wondered  at  that  his  name  should  have  l)ecome  a  house- 
hold word  throughout  his  native  land.  And  as  to  his 
well-known  love  for  the  fine  arts,  it  was  only  on  a  par 
with  the  affection  which  the  artists  of  the  country  always 
entertained  for  liim  as  one  of  their  best  friends. 

Soon  after  the  appearance,  early  in   1840,  of  a  work 
called  "Altowan,"  WTitten  by  an  Englishman  and  edited 


Utfi 


1^ 


it  H 


no 


HAPHAZARD   rEIlSONALITHCS. 


im 


n 


by  J.  Watson  Webb,  I  hiippcned  to  be  in  the  office  of 
the  Eveiilng  Post  when  the  book  came  up  for  discussion. 
I  hinted  to  the  editor  that  the  work  and  tlie  anonvmous 
autlior  deserved  a  hisliing,  and  after  giving  my  reasons, 
with  which  he  was  impressed,  he  asked  me  to  take  the 
worlv  in  hand,  for  his  journal.  I  told  liini  1  should  l)e  too 
severe,  and  he  would  not  print  my  oi)inions,  but  he  replied 
that  he  would  publish  every  word.  I  thanked  him  for 
the  compliment;  reviewed  the  ])ook,  forthwith,  as  it 
deserved  ;  and,  whatever  may  have  been  the  cause,  it  was 
never  heard  of  anv  more.  Indeed  there  never  was  a  time, 
since  its  foundation,  when  the  Evening  Post  was  not  a 
power  in  tlie  land.  From  that  time  forward  I  had  a  free 
passport  to  its  columns  ;  and  duriug  my  residence  in  New 
York  1  not  only  enjoyed  the  privilege  of  consulting  INIr. 
Bryant  on  matters  literary  and  artistic,  but  received  from 
him  many  favors,  and  was  afterwards  an  occasional  con- 
tributor to  his  journal. 

In  the  sunnner  of  1846  I  met  Mr.  Bryant  at  the  Sault 
St.  INFarie,  on  my  return  from  a  trip  to  the  head-waters  of 
the  Mississi})pi  Biver,  and  in  one  of  his  letters  to  the 
Post  lie  honored  me  with  this  notice  :  — 

"Among  these  C()p[;er-hunters  came,  passenger  from 
Lake  Superior,  a  hunter  of  the  picturesque,  Mr,  Charles 
Lanman,  whose  name  I  hope  I  mention  without  impropri- 
ety, since  I  am  only  anticipating  the  booksellers  in  a  piece 
of  literary  intelliGfence.  He  has  been  wandering  for  a 
year  past  in  the  wikU;  of  the  West ;  during  the  present 
summer  he  has  traversed  the  country  in  which  rise  the 
springs  of  the  Mississippi  and  the  streams  that  flow  into 
Lake  Superior,  and  intends  to  pul)lish  a  sketch  of  his 
iourney  soon  after  his  arrival  in  New  York.  If  I  may 
judge  from  what  I  learned  in  a  brief  conversation,  he  will 


WILLIAM    OULLEN    BRYANT. 


Ill 


hn- 
ece 
r  a 
lent 
I  the 
Into 
lliis 
pav 
rill 


give  us  a  book  well  worth  readini?.  He  is  an  artist  as  well 
as  an  author,  and  sketched  all  the  more  remark;  hie  places 
he  saw  in  his  travels,  for  the  illustration  of  his  volume. 
On  the  river  St.  Louis,  which  falls  into  the  western  ex- 
tremity of  Lake  Superior,  he  visited  a  stupendous  water- 
fall, not  described  by  any  traveller  or  geographer.  The 
volume  of  water  was  very  great  and  the  per[)endicular 
descent  a  hundred  and  lifty  feet,  lie  descril)es  it  as 
second  only  to  Niagara." 

When  the  "Letters  of  a  Traveller"  were  published 
in  Ijook  form,  in  ISol,  the  foregoing  paragraph  was 
omitted.  1  was  surprised  to  notice  this,  but,  suspecting 
the  cause,  wrote  to  Mr.  Bryant  on  the  subject.  He  frankly 
told  me,  in  a  kind  letter,  that  discredit  had  been  thrown 
upon  my  story,  in  his  mind,  by  a  savage  assault  upon 
me  printed  in  the  "  North  American  Review"  ;  ])ut,  with 
my  explanation  before  him,  he  regretted  that  he  had  man- 
ifested a  want  of  confidence  in  my  narrative.  On  seeing 
it  announced  in  1801)  that  a  new  edition  of  the  "  Letters 
of  a  Traveller"  was  about  to  appear,  I  wrote  again  to 
Mr.  Byrant,  and  after  reminding  liini  of  the  old  trouble, 
took  the  pains  to  prove  to  him,  by  reference  to  certain 
geological  reports,  that,  in  the  main,  my  statements  about 
the  Cascades  on  the  river  St.  Louis  were  true.  To  that 
letter  I  received  a  friendly  reph%  and  when  the  new  edi- 
tion of  the  book  came  out  the  excluded  paragi'a})!!  was 
restored  to  its  proper  place,  and  my  position  was  thus  fully 
vindicated.  And  this  is  only  another  instance  of  that 
integrity  of  purpose  which  always  characterized  the  con- 
duct of  the  distinguished  poet  and  journalist,  in  his  deal- 
ings with  his  fellow-men. 

As  to  the  attack  in  the  "  Review,"  it  was  written  to  order 
by  Francis  Bowen,  of  moral  philosophy  fame,  and  jxnV? 


ii!! 

i 


112 


HAPIIAZAIID    TEltSONALITIES. 


1  ■ 

[    i  ■ 

i 

1  ■  ;    '  ; 

{lil»>l 


for  by  the  "  American  Fur  Company,"  for  the  Bole  reason 
that  I  had  deemed  it  my  duty  to  expose  some  of  tiie  out- 
rageous deahngs  of  that  company  with  the  Indians  of  the 
Northwest. 

Long  before  the  days  of  p]iot()grai)liy,  or  before  it  had 
become  common  for  artists  to  make  ehiborate  sketciies 
of  American  scenery,  I  used  to  exiii])it  my  portfohos  to 
Mr.  liryant,  and  my  unpretending  productions  seemed  to 
afford  him  [)U'asure.  In  my  boyish  ain])ition,  and  while 
yet  a  Pearl  Street  clei-k,  I  painted  a  snndl  pictun^  in 
illustration  of  one  of  his  own  poems,  and  presented  it  to 
him,  when  he  sent  me  the  following  note,  which  ought  to 
have  encouraged  me  to  become  an  artist  by  profession  :  — 

New  York,  Nov.  3,  1874. 

My  dear  Sir,  — I  thank  you  for  your  picture,  wdiich  ap- 
pears to  possess  great  merit  and  give  high  promise  of  your 
future  success  as  a  landscape  painter.  It  has  the  quality 
of  individuality  both  in  the  general  effect  and  in  the  de- 
tails. Your  trees  are  real  trees,  of  the  different  kinds 
which  we  see  in  our  forests. 

I  am  a  very  deficient  connoisseur,  ])ut  T  shall  always  be 
happy  to  look  at  any  of  the  productions  of  your  ])encil ; 
and  though  my  opinion  cannot  be  of  any  value,  I  shall  be 
willing  to  express  it 

In  haste,  yours  truly, 

W.  C.  Bryant. 


The  other  letters  which  it  was  my  privilege  to  receive 
from  JVIr.  Piryant  were  all  in  keeping  with  the  al)ove,  and 
here  is  one  in  which  he  alludes  to  the  omission  in  the  first 
edition  of  his  "  Letters  of  a  Traveller." 


i  , 


'm 


WILLIAM   CULLEN  BRYANT. 


113 


CUMMINGTON,  MASS.,  Aug.  2,  1869. 
My  dear  Sir,  —  I  hardly  think  tluit  any  bookseller  will 
think  it  worth  his  while  to  bring  out  Ji  new  edition  of  my 
"  Letters  of  a  Traveller,"  thougii  1  see  it  stated  in  the 
Everih}(/  Pofit  that  Mv.  Putnam  proposes  to  do  so.  Notii- 
inji*  had  Ijeeu  said  to  me  about  it. 

I  do  not  remember  the  circumstance  to  which  you  refer, 
but  take  it  for  granted  that  vou  are  accurate  in  vour  recol- 
lection.  If  you  will  let  me  know  what  the  passa<2;e  was 
which  I  omitted,  and  Avhere  it  came  in,  I  will  consider 
whether  it  ought  to  be  restored,  in  case  a  new  edition 
should  be  published. 

I  am,  sir,  very  truly  yours, 

W.  C.  Bryant. 

Durino;  the  twcntv-eight  vears  between  ISlo  and  1871 
my  time  was  occupied  in  writing  for  the  i)ress,  in  looking 
after  the  custody  of  books  or  in  writhig  them,  and  in 
painting  an  occasional  picture  for  my  amusement ;  and 
when,  in  the  latter  year,  William  AV.  Corcoran  asked  me  if 
I  would  like  to  become  the  director  of  the  Corcoran  Clal- 
lery  of  Art,  and  told  me  to  place  credentials  before  the 
trustees  of  that  institution,  giving  me  reason  to  believe  by 
this  voluntary  mention  of  the  subject  that  he  would  use 
his  personal  inlluence  in  my  behalf,  I  wished  him  to  be 
fortified  with  a  few  testimonials,  and  I  mentioned  the 
matter  to  several  prominent  friends,  including  Mr.  Bryant, 
and  his  letter  to  the  trustees  was  as  follows  :  — 

-      -  -  New  York,  :March  20,  1.^71. 

To  the  Trustees  of  the  Corcoran  Gallery  of  Art. 

Gentlemen, — I  take  this  method  of    adding   mv  testi- 
mony  to  that  of  others  in  favor  of  appointing  Mr.  Charles 
8 


1  ■! 


■t     T'' 

« 

■1! 

l|^ 

114 


HAPHAZARD   PERSON ALITIKS. 


Liiiiman  to  the  superintendence  of  tlie  Corcoran  Gallery. 

Mr.  Lannuin  liiiB  vtiriouH  (iUaUdcations  for  that  cliarge.    He 

has  for  the  last  thh'ty  years  occupied  a  portion  of  his  time 

with  the  study  of  art,  in  which  he  has  always  taken  a 

special  interest.     lie  has  written  of  artists  in  various  })ub- 

lications,  and  criticised  their  works,  and  in  different  ways 

has  ac(|uired  the  knowli'doe  and  taste  which  would  make 

his  services  valuable  in  the  direction  of  a  public  gallery  of 

the  fine  arts.  Respectfully, 

W.  C.  Bry.vnt. 

In  Mr.  Bryant  the  reader  will  see  a  specimen  of  that 
class  of  friends  who  have  l)een  among  the  Uiading  com- 
forts of  my  life,  and  I  need  not  the  advice  of  Shakespeare, 
to  "  gnipple  them  to  my  soul  with  hooks  of  steel  "  ;  nor  is 
there  any  danger  of  my  ever  mentioning  tlieir  names  with- 
out a  feeling  of  gratitude.  By  way  of  showing  wiiat  my 
feelings  towards  JMr.  Bryant  were,  twenty  years  prior  to  the 
date  of  the  preceding  letter,  I  submit  tlie  following  Avhich 
appeared  as  the  Dedication  of  my  Ijook  entitled  "  Records 
of  a  Tourist,"  first  published  in  1850  :  — 

To 

WILLIAM    CULLEN     BRYANT,    ESQ., 

IN   WUOM   ARE   ULENDKl) 

All  tub  more  exaltkd  attuibutes  of  tub  Poet  and  tuk  Man, 

this  volume 
Is  AFFECTIONATELY  Inscribed. 

"When,  in  the  early  part  of  1874,  it  was  announced  that 
Mr.  Bryant  would  superintend  the  publication  of  a  new 
"  History  of  the  United  States,"  as  he  had  done  the  work 
entitled  "Picturesque  America,"  I  sent  him  two  or  three 
volumes  of  my  own,  which  I  thought  might  be  of  use  to 
him,  and  I  took  occasion  to  speak  of  the  treatment  which 


ill 


it 


WILLIAM   CULLEN    HRYANT 


115 


^ 


dm 

i; 


I  had  reci'ivrd  in  tlie  piihllcjilioii  last  naiiicd,  in  which  my 
iiccount  of  the  Fivnch  IJroad  River  had  Itecn  i)rinted  with- 
out credit,  aud  this  was  his  reply  :  — 

New  Yokk,  April  14,  1874. 

3ff/  dear  Sir,  —  I  thank  you  for  the  volumes  which  you 
were  ho  obiij'injx  ti^^  to  send  uie.  Thev  will  l)e  of  real 
use  in  eompilin*!;  the  history.  I  shall  j)ut  tiiem  in  the 
hands  of  Mr.  Gav,  on  whom  I  devolve  most  of  the  2cork. 

1  never  heard  of  the  plaj^iarism  of  which  you  vSpeak.  It 
was  of  course  the  otTence  of  some  person  emph>yed  by  Mr. 
Hunee  to  write  an  account  of  the  region  to  which  you  re- 
fer, and  Mr.  Bunce  doubtless  knew  nothing  of  it  till  you 
informed  the  Ai)pletons  of  it.     It  was  inexcusable. 

I  am,  very  truly  yours, 

W.  C.  Bryant. 


!!  (:w«' 


A  few  months  after  the  above  date  (in  the  month  of 
June)  I  had  occasion  to  write  a  letter  to  the  distinguished 
poet,  in  which  I  informed  him  that  my  Japanese  ward, 
Ume  Tsuda,  then  a  child  of  less  than  ten  years,  had  been 
winning  many  honors,  at  the  private  school  which  she  at- 
tended ;  that  she  was  fond  of  poetry  and  had  recited  before 
a  large  audience  the  poem  of  the  "  White-footed  Deer,"  in 
a  most  effective  manner  and  without  making  a  sin"le  mis- 
take,  aud  that  she  permitteil  me  to  send  her  card  picture  to 
the  great  man  she  had  learned  to  love.  To  that  letter  1 
received  the  following  beautiful  reply  :  — 

RosLYN,  Long  Island,  N.  Y. 
Dear  Sir,  —  I  thank  you  for  the  pleasant  little  anecdote 
related  in  your  letter.     IMease  give  my  best  thanks  to  Miss 
Ume  Tsuda  for  the  likeness  of  herself  which  she  allowed 


11 


m 


1,1 


116 


HAPIIAZAUI)   PERSONALITIES. 


you  to  st'iid  im'.  I  yliiill  i)r('sorve  it  oarofully  a8  the  por- 
trait (»r  OIK!  who  lia.s  won  ]»y  her  aiiiialtlo  qualities  the  love 
of  till'  lioiist'jiold  ill  which  who  lives. 

If  there  is  any  merit  in  my  poem  of  tiie  "  White-footed 
Deer,"  it  consists  in  tlie  spiritof  humanity  towards  tlie  in- 
ferior animals  wiiich  it  ineiiieates.  SIk;  may  for<::et  the 
poetry,  siieh  as  it  is  ;  hut  tlie  lesson,  J   li<jpe,  will  not  he 

Yours  truly, 


forgotten. 


W.   C.    liRYANT. 


m 


■111 


Soon  after  INIr.  T^ryant  had  attained  his  eij2;htieth  year, 
and  when  tiiousands  of  j)e()i)le  were  manifestinji;  tlieir  re- 
g:u(l  for  him  in  a  variety  of  ways,  I  sent  him,  with  a  sinall 
l)ainting  of  my  own,  a  letter  wliich  contained  tliis  i)ara- 
orapli  :  — 

'' I  cannot  resist  tlie  promptings  of  my  heart.  I  desire 
to  he  numhered  with  the  multitude,  who  have,  for  a  week 
past,  been  coimnemoratinji;  with  loving  words  the  pure  and 
splendid  life  of  fourscore  years,  which  will  ever  be  a 
leading  landmark  in  the  history  of  American  literature. 
INIore  than  a  third  of  a  century  has  passed  away  since  it 
was  first  my  i)rivilege  to  grasi)  your  hand.  At  that  time  I 
was  a  boy,  a  Pearl  Street  clerk,  and  an  amateur  artist;  it 
was  one  of  your  poems  which  ins])i'*e(l  my  first  i)icture 
com})()siti()n,  and  which  you  accepted  as  a  toki'ii  of  my 
admiration.  I  am  now  far  advanced  on  the  road  to  'Tlie 
Future  Life,'  and  one  of  my  last  productions  was  a  little 
picture  illustrating  a  line  in  your  poem  of  '  Autinnn 
Woods,'  and  wliich  picture,  all  unpretending  as  it  is,  I 
AVsh  you  to  accept  as  a  token  of  my  long-continued,  grate- 
ful, and  affectionate  regard." 

A  reply  to  my  letter  was  soon  returned  ;  and  while  the 
penmanship  was  as  careful  and  lieautiful  as  that  which 


WILLIAM    CILLKN    HKYANT. 


117 


viwuv  from  the  siiiiu'  Imnd  half  ji  century  before,  tlu'  Hcnti- 
iiieiit  way  an  followH  :  — 


RosLYN,  Loxo  Island,  N.  Y.,  Nov.  12,  1874. 

Ml/  clear  Sir, —  I  thank  yon  for  the  kind  words  which 
yoii  say  in  retjard  to  niv  ])irth(hiv.  'r<>  connt  eij^hlv  years 
of  one's  life  -with  the  feelinji;  that  there  cannot  be  nianv 
more  of  liu'ni  is  ratlier  a  mehmeholv  task,  but  its  saihiess 
liiav  be  somewhat  niitiuated  bv  cheerful  <;reetinij:s. 

I  thtmk  von  also  for  the  ])ictnre  which  came  ^vith  vonr 
letter  Tiiere  is  a  p:rave  and  (juiet  *i'race  about  it, —  thoui^h 
with  nnich  richness  of  coloring,  which  suits  the  autunnial 
season  of  the  year  as  well  as  the  autumn  of  life.  It  is 
creditable  to  vonr  ])encil,  and  I  accept  it  as  emblematic  of 
your  kind  estimate  of  my  old  age. 

I  am,  sir,  truly  yours, 

W.  C.  15 in  ANT. 


I  ( 


The  printed  tributes  of  regard  Avhich  heralded  Mr. 
lirvant's  eightieth  birthday  wci'e  very  mimerous  and  elo- 
(jnent,  but  among  them  all  there  was  not  one  which  cov- 
ered the  whole  ground  more  completely  in  few  wortlsjthan 
the  following  from  the  New  York  Observer,  written,  1  \nv- 
sume,  by  my  old  friend.  Dr.  Prime  :  — 

"Mr.  Bryant's  career  is  one  that  may  be  wisely  com- 
mended to  the  admiration  of  those  who  are  looking  u})- 
ward  with  anxious  eves  as  to  their  future  in  the  race  of 
life.  Born  in  a  retired  yillage  of  jMassachusetts,  edu(;ated 
at  Williams  College,  dependent  npon  his  own  industry  and 
genius,  with  strong  moral  convictions  ;  temperate,  syste- 
matic, and  persevering  ;  a  poet  and  yet  practical ;  not  given 
to  visions  and  dreams,  but  realizing  that  life  is  '  real  and 
earnest,'  he  has  steadily,  quietly,  and  nobly  wrought  out 


.; 


118 


HAPHAZARD   PKRSONALITIES. 


for  himself  a  character  that  is  to-day  more  enviable,  per- 
haps, than  tliat  of  nny  other  citizen  of  tlie  United  Stiites. 
Without  ever  havini>;  held  office,  which  would  have  been 
thrust  ui)on  him  had  he  been  willing  to  receive  it,  in  the 
pursuit  of  the  most  labori(ms  and  responsible  of  nil  sec- 
ular professions,  by  his  pen  emi)l()yed  solely  for  the  im- 
provement, elevjition,  and  delight  of  the  world  of  readers, 
he  has  won  fame,  love,  reverence,  and  that  measure  of 
wealth  which  makes  old  age  comfortable,  graceful,  and 
happy.  And  crowned  with  the  peaceful  hopes  of  the 
Christian,  which  add  an  eternal  future  of  enjoyment  to 
the  pleasure  of  the  present,  the  measure  is  full,  and  we 
have  a  riiiht  to  count  him  blessed  amouijr  men.  May  his 
example  be  a  blessing  also  to  those  who  come  after  him." 

In  a  note  addressed  to  Mr.  Bryant,  in  187G,  I  mentioned 
the  fact  that  1  had  seen  a  poem  in  a  school  book,  attributed 
to  him,  on  the  subject  of  "Immortality,"  and  liiul  been 
greatly  puzzled  about  it,  as  I  thought  it  could  not  have 
come  from  his  pen.     In  his  reply  he  wrote  a«  follows  :  — 

"The  poem  on  '  Immortality '  is  an  old  affair.  It  ap- 
peared some  fifteen  or  twenty  years  since,  under  my  name, 
and  after  a  .vhile  I  was  obliged,  in  self-defence,  to  disclaim 
its  autliorsh.ip,  as  it  was  not  written  by  me." 

In  the  death  of  Mr.  lirvant  our  country  lost  one  of  its 
purest  and  most  gifted  citizens  ;  the  literary  world,  one  of 
its  best  poets;  and  the  press,  onfe  of  its  brightest  and 
most  influential  ornaments.  As  if  in  answer  to  one  of  his 
poetic  prayers,  he  died  in  the  month  of  "  flowery  June  "  ; 
the  tributes  to  Ills  memory,  which  were  published  innnedi- 
ately  after  his  departure,  were  quite  uni)aralleled  in  their 
number,  their  affectionate  spirit  and  high  character  ;  and  I 
can  now  fancy  that  all  the  characters  in  Leutze's  exquisite 
illustration  of  "  The  CatterskiU  Falls,"  as  they  mournfully 


w 


WILLIAM    CULLEN    liKVANT. 


119 


sweep  in  eircles  around  their  moonlit  and  icy  liome,  are 
forever  singing  the  praises  of  the  i)oet  who  cnHed  them 
into  being.  The  fact  tliat,  as  ''time  and  chanee  deter- 
mined," he  was  in  the  hal)it  of  attendini*-  hotli  the  Unitarian 
and  ]*i-esl)vterian  ehurelies,  is  to  mv  mind  only  an  evidence 
of  his  sincerity  and  rare  liberality  as  a  true  Christian,  and 
yet  it  is  one  which  has  led  some  people  to  doubt  his  ortho- 
doxy. On  that  point  I  have  only  this  to  say,  that  I  want 
no  better  evidence  of  his  soundness  on  the  subject  of  re- 
ligion than  what  is  found  in  liis  two  poems  entitled  '"He 
hath  i)ut  all  Things  under  His  Feet,"  and  ''  Keceive  Thy 
Light,"  and  in  the  "Prayer"  wliich  he  and  his  betrothed 
wife  uttered  together  in  1S21,  wliich  was  so  touchingly  re- 
called by  the  poem  in  memory  of  his  wife  found  amonii-  his 
papers  after  his  own  death.  But  more  important  than  all 
was  the  Preface  he  wrote  for  the  work  entitled  "  The  Re- 
ligious Life,"  by  his  friend  Joseph  Alden,  the  beauty  and 
value  of  which  cannot  be  overrated  ;  and  yet  in  tlie  autlior- 
ized  "  Biography  of  the  Poet "  tliere  is  not  one  allusion  to 
this  priceless  bit  of  autobiography,  uor  to  the  clergyman  in 
Poslyn,  who  was  the  friend  and  pastor  of  Mr.  Bryant.  In- 
deed, taking  INIr.  Bryant's  writings  as  a  whole,  in  connec- 
tion with  the  religious  manifestoes  of  his  old  age,  his  pur- 
pose would  seem  to  have  been,  not  only  to  })urify  the  human 
heart,  but  to  make  his  fellow-beings  htippy,  both  in  tliis 
world  and  thtit  beyond  the  grave.  With  the  materials  tliat 
were  placed  in  the  hands  of  Paike  (Jodwin,  it  would  have 
been  impossiltle  for  him  to  make  an  uninteresting  book, 
but  it  was  unfoi'tunate  that  he  should  have  proven  himself 
in  th'S,  as  in  his  preceding  publications,  to  be  without  the 
more  delicate  sympatliies  of  the  human  heart,  and  inca- 
pable of  being  just  when  discussing  the  religious  position 
of  the  man  he  was  anxious  to  honor. 


ij 


i 


I 


il  y 


120 


lIArUAZAUD    TEllSONALITIES. 


m\' 


\i 


HENRY   CLAY. 

I  HAVE  never  been  n,  politician,  hut  in  1844  I  had  a  ter- 
rible aitack  of  the  Whig  fever  in  the  city  of  New  York  ; 
it  lusted  for  perhaps  six  weeks,  and  then  it  was  that  I  cast 
niv  first  and  onlv  vote  in  a  Presidential  election,  and,  of 
course,  my  ideal  was  Henry  Clay.  My  father  aud  ^rnud- 
father  had  both  been  attached  to  him  as  personal  friends, 
nnd  1  did  not  then,  and  never  wished  to  be,  less  devoted 
than  they  Avere.  I  first  stiw  Mi*.  Chiy  in  New  York  in  LSof), 
ou  the  occasion  of  one  of  iiis  visits  to  that  citv,  and  I 
remember  tlmt  there  was  not  nnich  dignity  in  the  manner 
in  which  the  enthusiastic  people  literally  carried  him  over 
their  heads  from  liroadway  into  tlie  Astor  House.  I 
afterwards  heard  him  speak  in  the  Senate,  visited  him  fre- 
(luently  at  his  hotel  in  AVashiugton,  and  at  tlie  time  of  his 
last  sickness  had  tlie  pleasure  of  hearing  i\[r.  AVebster,  at 
his  own  table,  speak  of  his  great  rival  in  these  terms  :  — 

"  jMr.  Chiy  is  a  great  man  ;  Ix'voud  all  question,  a  true; 
patriot.  He  has  done  mucli  for  his  country.  He  ought 
loug  ago  to  have  been  elected  President.  I  thiuk,  how- 
ever, lie  was  never  a  man  of  l)ooks,  a  hard  student,  1»ut 
he  has  displayed  remarkal)le  genius.  1  never  could  iui- 
agini'.  liim  sitting  comfortably  in  his  library  and  reading 
quietly  out  of  the  great  books  of  the  ])ast.  He  has  been 
too  fond  of  the  W(n'ld  to  enjoy  an\  thing  like  that.  He  has 
been  too  fond  of  excitement;  he  has  lived  npon  it.  He 
has  been  too  fond  of  company,  not  enough  alone,  and 
has  had  few  resources  within  liimsc^lf.  Now  a  man  who 
cannot,  to  some  extent,  depend  upon  himself  for  hai)i)i- 
ness  is,  to  my  mind,  one  of  the  nnfortunates.     But  Clay 


HENRY  CLAY. 


121 


is  !i  great  man,  and  if  lie  ever  had  animosities  against  me, 
1  forgive  liim  and  forget  tliem." 

If  in  tlie  ease  of  INIr.  Clnv  1  cannot  recall  anv  incident 
within  my  i)ers(^nal  knowledges  ilhistrative  of  his  character, 
it  so  hn|)i)ens,  however,  that  I  can  lay  before  the  reader  a 
few  of  liis  letters.  The  first  in  the  order  of  date,  and 
addressed  to  my  father,  in  1817,  will  explain  itself,  and  is 
as  follows  :  — 

Washington  City,  28th  Octo])er,  1817. 

JSir.  —  I  have  received  the  letter  wliich  von  addressed  to 
me  on  the  lOth  instant,  re(|nestiiig  information  rehitive  to 
the  prospects  wiiich  a  young  m;in  of  good  education  would 
have  of  ])eing  employed  in  Kenti'cky  as  a  tutor  in  a  private 
family,  or  in  the  i)rofession  of  law. 

During  my  residence  in  Kentucky  1  successively  em- 
plojH'd  two  young  gentlemen  as  tutors  in  my  family  (one 
from  New  England  and  the  other  from  New  Jersey),  to 
each  of  whom  I  gave  $W0  \k'v  anmim  and  boarded  him  in 
my  family.  I  think  it  probable  that  on  similar  terms,  with 
proper  recommendations,  you  could  obtain  innni'diate 
employment  in  Kentucky.  Our  system  of  education  not 
l)eing  so  good  as  that  which  prevails  with  you,  gentlemen 
who  have  large  families  and  can  alford  the  expense  are 
frequently  desirous  of  engaging  private  tutoi's. 

Success  in  the  profession  of  the  law  d('i)ends  upon  so 
many  circumstances  that  it  is  almost  imi)ossil)le  to  i)ro- 
nounce  a  j^i'iori  what  degree  of  it  will  attend  the  exertions 
of  any  pai-ticular  candidate.  One  mav,  however,  safely 
assert  with  respect  to  the  jnu'suit  of  it  in  Kentucky,  that 
even  a  moderate  share  of  talents,  accompanied  Ity  pro])ity, 
industry,  patience,  and  economy,  will  be — and  in  a  ])eri()d 
nuich  shorter  than  in  older  countries  —  rewr.rded  with  a 
competency  and  respectability.    With  the  (pialillcations  sug- 


1 


m 


yn 


122 


IIAI'IIAZAUI)   rKRSONALlTIES. 


gested,  I  do  not  think  itniuteriid  in  wluit  part  of  the  State 
ti  location  is  made.  Tliere  is  room  anywhere,  thongh  there 
may  be  some  difference  as  to  the  period  in  which  one  would 
realize  his  hopes  in  the  several  i)laces  that  might  present 
themselves.  Should  you  determine  upon  the  pursuit  of 
that  proiession  in  Kentucky,  or,  indeed,  in  any  i)art  of 
the  Western  States,  mv  advice  would  he  that  vou  should 
go  out,  reconnoitre,  and  determine  for  yourself.  Terms  of 
admission  to  the  bar,  with  us,  are  upon  the  most  easy  and 
liberal  footing.  No  previous  residence  is  required,  and 
the  license  to  practise  what  the  law  prescribes  is  usually 
granted  after  very  slight  examinations  of  the  a})plicant. 

Partnerships  in  the  profession  are  extremely  rare  with 
us,  and  perhaps  desirable  to  neither  party.  The  business 
of  the  counsellor  and  attorney  is  not  separated  as  it  is  in 
New  York  and  some  other  parts. 

I  have  not  considered  myself  a  practitioner  for  several 
years. 

I  shall  l)e  happy,  sir,  if  this  letter  may,  in  any  manner, 
be  useful  to  you,  and  it  will  give  me  great  pleasure  to  com- 
municate to  you  any  further  information,  or  to  render  you 
any  aid  in  the  prosecution  of  your  object,  in  my  power. 

I  am  your  obedient  servant, 

H.  Clay. 
CiiAKLES  James  Lanman,  Esq., 

Norwich,  Conn. 

A  letter  which  Mr.  Clay  wrote  to  my  grandfather  in  1820, 
who  as  a  senator  had  voted  for  the  admission  of  Missouri 
as  a  State,  is  also  in  my  possession.  INIr.  Clay  was  at  that 
time  in  Kentucky^,  and  his  correspondent  in  Washington, 
and  the  object  of  the  letter  was  to  introduce  the  two 
newly  elected  senators  from  th.e  new  State  of  INIissouri, 
David  Barton  and  Thomas  II.  Benton,  and  the  letter  was 
as  follows :  — 


HENKY  CLAY. 


123 


Lexington,  31st  October,  18-20. 

Dear  Sir,  —  I  am  quite  sure  you  will  not  consider  nie  us 
trespassing  too  much  upon  the  sninll  acquaintance  wliicli 
I  have  with  you,  in  introducing  to  you  INIessrs.  Barton  and 
Benton,  the  senators  from  Missouri.  The  li])erality  wliicli 
niarlved  your  course  on  that  interesting  question  to  which 
their  State  has  given  rise,  indei)endent  of  otlier  consi(h'r- 
ations,  makes  them  anxious  to  know  a  gentleman  avIio.  con- 
sidering the  Constitution  and  the  tranipiillity  of  the  Union 
alone,  has  l)oldly  done,  at  all  hazards,  what  he  eonscien- 
tiouslv  believed  his  dutv. 

I  am  i)ersuaded  that  you  will  see,  in  the  contribution  of 
talent,  of  information,  and  of  patriotism  which  these  gen- 
tlemen will  make  to  the  national  councils,  additional  cause 
of  forafication  to  your  disinterested  course.  I  cannot  but 
hope  you  will  be  spnred  the  renewal  of  a  discussion  which 
threatened  so  much,  and  which  was,  I  think,  so  happily 
terminated.     AVith  great  respect,  I  am, 

Your  obedient  servant, 

II.  Clay. 
The  Hon.  James  Lanman,  etc. 

When  in  1850  I  first  met  Mr,  Benton  in  Washington,  he 
forthwith  began  to  talk  in  very  pleasant  terms  al)out  my 
grandfather,  telling  me  that  he  remembered  his  knee- 
breeches  and  powdered  hair  ;  that  he  was  an  admirable 
horseman,  and  daily  took  an  airing  in  the  saddle.  AVith 
regard  to  Mr.  Benton  himself,  he  had  a  similar  passion 
for  a  fine  horse  ;  and  while  I  do  not  class  him  witli  such 
men  as  INIr.  Clav,  he  had  many  of  the  characteristics  of 
a  grand  old  Roman  senator,  and  was  a  distinguished  honor 
to  his  country.  His  j^lace  of  residence  in  AVashington  I 
remember  as  the  perfection  of  a  home.    Nor  do  I  wonder  at 


.; 


w 
Ji 

::ii 
H 


irr 


124 


HAPITAZATID   FERSONALITIES. 


this  when  I  recollect  tluit,  aecordinj^  to  a  promise  he  inndo 
to  his  mother  when  a  mere  boy,  he  never  participated  in  a 
ij;Mme  of  chance,  nor  indulged  in  the  use  of  tobacco  and 
si)irituous  beverages.  That  he  was,  liowever,  sometimes  a 
little  intemperate  is  proven  l)y  the  public  records.  AVhen 
jMr.  Clav  wrote  the  above  letter  of  introduction,  little  did 
he  imagine  that  thirty  years  afterward  he  would  be  falsely 
charged  l)y  INIr.  Benton  with  writing  a  calumnious  letter; 
and  that  in  repelling  the  charge  on  the  floor  of  the  Stuiate, 
he  would  be  forced  to  use  the  language  which  caused  him, 
for  tiie  oillv  time  in  his  life,  to  be  called  to  order  by  the 
President  of  tlie  Senate. 

AVith  regar;!  to  the  sul)j{)ined  letters  addressed  to  nu'self , 
I  puint  them  with  this  one  remark,  that  at  the  time  they 
were  received,  excepting  one,  I  was  connected  with  the 
l!i aw  York  Daily  Exjn'ess. 


in 


f:    ■) 


i 

k 

L. 

AsiiLANi),  Sept.  28, 1844. 

M)/  dear  /^it\  — T  have  only  time,  through  an  amanuensis 
wlio  writes  upcm  my  dictation,  to  make  a  ])rief  acknowledg- 
ment of  tlie  receipt  of  your  friendly  letter,  and  to  thank 
you  for  the  kind  sentiments  towards  me  which  it  expresses. 
I  most  sincerely  hope  that  the  prospect  which  you  present 
of  the  enthusiasm  wliich  prevails  in  the  AVhig  cause  may 
terminate  in  its  successful  issue,  less  on  my  own  account 
than  that  of  our  connnon  country.  Il)elieve  that  such  will 
be  the  result,  if  the  AVhigs  put  forth  their  earnest  exertions, 
undismayed  by  the  boasting  and  bragging  of  their  o[)i)o- 
nents.  -  > -• 

I  am  i::reatlv  obliged  by  the  offer,  which  you  kindly  make, 
of  the  two  volumes  Avhich  you  have  composed,  and  I  should 
be  most  happy  to  receive  them.    ,At  present,  I  know  of 


HENRY  CLAY. 


125 


no  opportunity  hy  wliich  they  can  be  conveyed.  Perlmps 
some  one  may  shortly  present  itself.  I  am  Avith  oreat 
respect,  ^ 

Your  friend  and  obedient  servant, 

V  ■■■;'„:  '■"■:;.,/  '  '  H.  Clay. 

'  Ashland,  14th  April,  1X47. 

My  dear  Sir,  —  I  thank  you  for  your  kind  letter  on  the 
melancholy  occasion  of  the  death  of  my  beloved  son. 
My  life  has  been  full  of  domestic  afflictions,  but  this  hist  is 
one  of  the  severest  among  them.  I  derive  Some  conso- 
hition  from  knowing  that  lie  died  where  he  would  have 
chosen,  and  where,  if  I  nmst  lose  him,  I  should  have  pre- 
ferred, on  the  l)attle-field  in  the  service  of  his  countrv.  I 
am,  respectfully,   . 

Your  obliged  friend  and  obedient  servant, 

II.  Clay. 

AsTiLAND,  22d  April,  1847. 
My  dear  /.S'?V,  —  I  received  to-day  your  friendlv  letter, 
and  a  number  of  the  Express,  to  whidi  it  refers, ^contain- 
ing an  account  of  the   proceeding-son  the  occasion  of  the 
celebration  of  my  l)lrth(hiy  in  the  city  of  New  York,  with 
wliich  I  was  honored  by  my  young  ivhig  friends.      Filled 
as  my  heart  is  with  grief  for  the  I()ss  of  my  lamented  and 
beloved  son,  I  cannot  but  feel  profoundly  gn.teful  for  the 
enthusiastic  compliment  which  has  beenthus  rendered  to 
me.     I  wish   that  I  was  moi-e   conscious  of  deserving   it 
than  I  am,  and  that  I  did  not  feel  that  of  all  our  country- 
men, Washington  only  merits  the  anniversary  of  his  birth- 
day to  be  commemorated. 

I  thank  you  for  the  interesting  details  attending  the  cele- 
bration, which  you  have  done  me  the  favor  to'omnnmi- 
cate. 


is        ,  (  ' :  ! 


'(    t5 


126 


HAIMIAZARD   PKUSONALITIES. 


I, 

■    ■"    ■    -  ■ 
1    '    ' 

I  h 

H' 


li(>  ploused  to  give  my  hest  rogartls  to  Mr.  James  Brooks, 
your  associate.     I  remain  truly, 

Your  friend  and  obedient  servant, 

H.  Clay. 

Ashland,  1st  December,  1847. 
Dear  Sir,  —  I  thank  yon  for  your  friendly  letter  of  the 
24 til  ulto.,  with  a  cojn'  of  my  late  speech,  on  the  Mexican 
war,  delivered  at  Ix^xington,  on  the  13th  ulto.,  as  pub- 
lished in  the  Exj^'css,  the  constant  kindness  of  which 
towards  me  I  have  always  felt  and  duly  appreciated. 

The  important  point  of  the  speech  was  that  which  asserts 
the  power  of  Congress  to  decide  on  the  objects  of  any  war, 
and  calls  upon  it  to  proclaim  what  shall  be  those  of  a  fur- 
ther prosecution  of  the  existing  war.  If  Congress  will  act, 
I  cannot  doubt  that  peace  will  speedily  ensue.  May  God 
grant  us  that  great  blessing. 

With  great  respect,  I  am  truly  yours, 

II.  Clay. 

AsiiLAXD,  6th  December,  1847. 
Mf/  dear  /Sir,  —  I  thank  you  for  your  favor  of  the  30th 
ulto.,  with  the  highly  interesting  pamphlet  from  the  pen 
of  INIr.  Gallatin,  and  w^hich,  althongh  received  only 
to-day,  I  have  already  perused  with  great  satisfaction.  It 
is  distinguished  by  strong  facts  strikingly  arrayed,  and 
strong  arguments,  which  always  characterize  the  producr 
tions  of  that  eminent  and  venerable  citizen.  It  cannot  fail 
to  exercise  a  powerful  influence  in  behalf  of  the  cause  of 
peace.  Will  he  also  be  accused  of  seeking  the  IVesidency 
because  he  has  counselled  his  country  against  the  further 
prosecution  of  an  unjust  war? 

With  great  and  constant  regard, 

11.  Clay. 


HENRY   CLAY. 


127 


V. 


Among  the  volumes  in  my  library  111)011  wliich  I  pliice 
a  vspeciul  value  is  one  containing  the  private  C'<)rresi)oncl- 
enee  of  Mr.  Clay,  presented  to  me  ])y  William  V\,\  Seaton, 
and  the  mention  of  his  name  recalls  an  interesting  incident 
which  occurred  at  liis  own  ta})le.  Dnring  the  i)eriod  when 
AVilliain  (iaston  and  Ilenrv  Clav  were  l)otli  in  C'on<»:ress, 
they  had  an  oratorical  contest,  which  was  not  satisfactory 
to  the  latter,  and  resulted  in  a  prolonged  alienation  between 
the  two  statesmen.  Forty  yeai's  after  the  aforesaid  debate 
these  two  men  met  at  the  table  of  JNL.  Seaton.  At  first, 
they  were  both  disposed  to  l)e  very  dignitied  towards 
each  other,  and  the  moment  Mv.  Seaton  observed  this,  he 
remembered  the  long-forgotten  dilliculty  between  the  cham- 
pions of  North  Carolina  and  Kentucky,  and  at  once  pro- 
pounded this  setinment,  "Friendship  in  mar])le,  enmities 
in  dust"  ;  and  from  that  hour  Gaston  and  Clav  were  warm 
friends  until  they  were  parted  by  death. 

Another  incident  in  the  life  of  Henry  Clay,  which  came 
to  my  knowledge  from  the  Rev.  Dr.  J.  T.  AVheat,  a  man 
himself  of  very  su[)erior  abilities,  it  seems  to  be  my  duty 
to  preserve  iu  this  place.  It  w^as  long  ago,  and  the  rev- 
erend gentleman  just  named  had  visited  Washington,  his 
native  city,  ou  a  begging  expedition  in  behalf  of  a  church 
in  Ohio,  and  among  his  letters  of  introduction  was  one 
to  Mr.  Clay.  On  visiting  the  reception-room  at  the  Sen- 
ate, Mr.  Wheat  sent  his  card  to  the  senator,  and  after  he 
had  delivered  the  letter  he  was  told  bv  IMr.  Clav  that  he 
was  about  to  participate  in  a  d(!bate,  and  that  he  would  be 
very  happy  if  Mr.  AVheat  would  call  at  his  house  in  the 
evening  and  take  tea  with  his  family,  when  they  would 
discuss  the  pending  business.  The  invitation  was  accepted, 
and  the  result,  to  use  Mr.  Wheat's  own  language,  was  as 
follows :  — 


i  ' 


128 


ITAPnAZARD   PERSONALITIKS. 


>m\ 


p 


f 

'    ';  , 

'  i  I    '' 

f  1  '  ^^ 

"  When  1  jirrivod,  the  servant  took  me  to  the  family  sit- 
ting-room,  and  withont  annonncinfjj  me,  left  me  standing  at 
the  open  door.     Mr.  Clay  was  seated  at  a  table  on  which  a 
lamp  was  ])nrning,  and  so  absorbed  in  reading  a  little  book 
that  J  had  advanced  (piite  near  to  him  and  spoken  Ix'fore 
he  was  aware  of   my  presence.     He   received  me  in  his 
nsual  courteous  manner,  and  f  took  a  seat  by  the  side  of 
the  table  with  him.     At  a  pause  in  the  conversation  which 
followed,  mv  curiosity  to  know  what  was  the  little  book  in 
which  JNIr.  Clay  was  so  dee[)ly  interested  prompted   me  to 
take  it  up,  and  T  was  greatly  surprised  to  find  it  a  child's 
Sunday-school  l)ook.      Seeing   this,  INlr.   Clay   remarked, 
'  You  are  no  doubt  suri)rised  at  your  discovery,  but  I  often 
read  the  1)ooks  the  children  bring  home  from  the  Sunday 
school.'      And,   while   the  smile  gave   place  to  a   tender 
gravity  in  his  noble  countenance,  he  continued,  '  My  life, 
YOU  nmst  know,   my  dear  sir,  has   been  a  very  worldly, 
irreligious  one.     It  is  only  of  late  years  that  I  have  lu-gun 
to  give  earnest  heed  to  those  things  which  concern  me  most 
nearly  ;  ami  1  really  need  the  instruction  which  I  get  from 
these  Sunday-school  books.     I  also  receive  some  encour- 
agement  to  ho[)e  that  I  have  at  least  the  beginning  of  a 
new  nature  and  life  in  me,  ])ecause  I  can  understand  some- 
what, and  sympathize  with  what  I  read  in  these  ])ooks 
about  the  church,  and  the  character  and  life  of  a  Christian. 
You  know,'  he  continued,  '  when  we  read  a  work  of  11c- 
tion,  we  sometimes  say  of  a  character  or  scene,  that  the 
description  is  true  to  life  and  nature.     We  verify  it  by  our 
own  consciousness  and  experience.'     Then,  with  increased 
earnestness,  he  asked,  '  Do  you  think,  my  dear  sir,  that 
1  am  presumptuous  in  hoping  that  there  may  be  in  myself 
the  new  nature,  the  divine  life,  since  I  really  find  pleasure 
in  reading  religious  books,  and  receive  much  needed  assist- 


it 


DBt 

>in 
ur- 
a 
ii\e- 
:)ks 
:in. 

ic- 
the 
our 

ed 
hat 
self 

lire 

ist- 


,s 


IIKNUY   (LAY. 


120 


ancc  from  tlioni  in  my  poor  (Muloavors  1<>  lend  a  jx^mHv  nnd 
aCliristiiiii  litt; .'" 

'•*  AVIiMt  could  r  answer,  luitto  assent  most  heartily  to  this 
nx'ek  ln(|uirv  so  unexnceh'd  Mild  so  toucliinu  ?     I  w"iil  wvw 

1*1  « 

fiiiiy  into  till  S('i'i|>tMr:d  jjfronnds  of  liis  fiiith  :'.nd  hope  in 
Cin'ist,  nnd  w:is  deeply  moved  ;il  (indini!;  myself  so  p:i- 
tienlly  listened  !,>  by  one,  intellectually,  so  f:ir  :il)ovti  me. 
That  the  <^reat  statesman,  on  whose  ehxpience  a  listeniui:: 
Senate  huno-,  should  show  such  humility,  forcibly  recalled 
the  declaration  of  Christ,  ^  Kxcept  ye  be  converted,  and 
])ecome  as  little  children,  ve  shall  not  enter  into  the  Uinjj;- 
dom  of  heaven.'" 

JMr.  AVheat  not  only  enjoyed  liis  cup  of  ten,  and  ob- 
tained a  handsome  donation  from  his  host,  but  bi'fore 
Iciivinii'  the  house  heard  one  of  the  children  makt>  the  re- 
mark, ''  We  do  not  have  a  chance  to  read  our  Sundav- 
school  books,  because  ji'randpa  is  always  taking  them 
away  from  us  for  his  own  ])leasure." 

That  Ilenrv  C'lav  was  a  great  man  —  as  orator,  states- 
man,  and  i)atriot — is  the  universal  tribute  of  his  countrymen  ; 
but  that  there  was  imich  in  his  character  calculated  to  w  in 
the alTection  of  those  who  knewliim.  is  conclusively  j^roven 
bv  the  fact,  that,  amon<>;  the  latest  words  uttered  by  him, 
when  dviuii',  were  these,  "Mv  mother,  mv  dear  wife," 
showiuii"  that,  while  i)assin<>:  throuoh  the  dark  valley,  his 
heart  was  cheered  bv  the  uu'morv  of  thosi!  whom  he  had 
tenderly  loved,  and  were  awaiting  him  in  the  better  land. 
As  T  recall  the  splendid  tributes  that  he  paid  to  religion, 
and  how' his  two  great  rivals,  Calhoun  an<l  Webster,  uttered 
similar  sentiments,  iiiv  thou<>Iits  uaturallv  revert  to  the 
erowniuij;  ne<ilect  of  INFacaulav  in  that  i)articular,  and  I 
feel,  in  a  far  higher  sense  than  Shakespeare  intended, 
"how  sharper  than    a   serpent's    tooth    it  is,  to   have    a 


mo 


MAI'HAZAIM)    I'KltSONAIJTIKS. 


tliJijiklcHH  cliild."  Tlu^  j»r('Mt  ossnvist  iiiMV  li.'iv(>  Ixmmi  h 
lover  of  cliildn'U,  Imt'lt  ol'tni  .sciMiu'd  :i8  if  lie  Tailed  to 
re('o<riiizc  a  Father  in  tlie  Creator  of  tlie  world. 


I 


i! 

rl  ' 

km'     ? 


EDWARD    I^:VKUKTT. 

My  intercourse  willi  this  eiuiiieiit  nmn  was  one  of  the 
many  T)leasMnt  results  of  niv  connection  with  Daniel  Web- 
ster  as  liis  ])iivate  secretarv.  That  he  honored  me  with 
his  conlldence  and  frii'udshi^)  is  a  fact  wlii<'h  I  fully  appre- 
ciated, and  his  kindness  to  nio  is  proven  by  the  I'ollowin*^ 
seleotiou  from  his  correspondence. 

CAMiU{r^)OE,  20th  Scplomher,  1851. 
Dear  Sir,  —  INIr.  AVebster  has  sent  me  vonr  letter  of  the 
2r)th,  kindly  proi)()slnL>"  to  furnish  a  sketch  of  his  birth- 
place, to  be  engraved  for  the  new  edition  of  his  works.  I 
should  think  such  an  illustration  would  f(n'm  a  very  pleas- 
in«»'  addition  to  the  interest  of  the  work  ;  and  if  you  will 
have  the  goodness  to  forward  the  drawing  to  me,  1  will 
innnediately  propose  to  Messrs.  Little  &  Brown  to  hav(^ 
it  engraved. 

I  am,  dear  sir,  very  truly  yours, 

Edwaud  Everett. 

Cambrtbge,  4th  November,  1851. 
Dear  Sir,  —  I  ought  long  since  to  have  acknowledged 
the  receipt  of  the  interesting  drawing  of  ]Mr.  Webster's 
Ttirthplace.  It  was  immediately  placed  in  the  hands  of  the 
engraver,  and  wall  adorn  one  of  the  volumes  of  the  new 
edition  of  his  works. 

,         I  remain,  dear  sir,  very  truly  yours, 

Edward  Everett. 


EDWAUI)   KVERKTT. 


181 


In  view  of  tlu'  f(>r«'!j;()iujx«  !>n<l  <>f  tlio  lotttT  from  ISfr. 
WchstiT  to  Mr.  Kvcivtt,  jihout  to  follow,  ii  Itrii'f  slatt'iiuMit 
nuist  hero  ])o  iMjidi'.  The  t'lii^raviiij^  alliulcd  to  did  not 
iiiako  its  appi'araiice  in  Mr.  Woltstor's  works,  hut  in  tiie 
plat't!  of  it  llii'  view  of  ii  fanii-hoiist>  niljniuiiHj  the  birth' 
place.  I'll  '  li'.'miino  picture  was  pulilishcd  in  tlu'  '*  Private 
Lifts"  and  also  in  Putnam's  '•  Homes  of  Aujerican  States- 
men"; and  wlu'u  the  original  drawinj^  was  made,  Mr. 
Wehster  sat  hv  the  side  of  the  author  and  sanctioned  it  on 
the  Hjjot.  Shortlv  afterward  the  house  was  demolished. 
WIkmi  the  farm-house  view  made  its  api)earaucc,  Mr.  AVcb- 
stur  pronounced  it  ii  ''  miserable  mistake." 


Mr.  Wehster  to  3fr.  Everett. 

Maksiifii'.li),  Oct.  8,  isr)l. 

My  dear  Sir ^  —  The  liouse  delineated  in  ]Mr.  Lannuin's 
sketch  is  the  very  house  in  whicli  I  was  l^orn.  Some  of 
my  older  brothers  and  sisters  were  ])orn  in  the  first  house 
erected  bv  my  father,  which  was  a  lo<»:-cabin.  Hefore  mv 
birth  lu!  had  l)ecome  able  to  build  a  small  frame  house, 
which  some  persons  now  living  will  remember,  and  whi'h 
is  accurately  dei)icted  by  JMr.  Lanman.  This  house,  in  its 
turn,  gave  way  to  a  much  larger  one,  which  now  stands  on 
the  spot,  and  which  was  built  l»y  those  who  purchased  tlu; 
property  (^f  my  father.  1  liave  recently  ri'j)urchased  the 
si)ot.  I  will  look  for  Mr.  Marston's  note,  but  I  thought 
you  had  it.  I  will  revise  the  several  dedications,  and  en- 
I'lose  them  by  this  mail  or  the  next. 

—     ,  Yours  always  truly, 

Daniel  Webster. 


i!         I 


132 


HAPHAZARD    TKRSONALITIES. 


]5osT()X,  30tli  Octobor,  18G2. 

Dear  /Sir,  — I  have  yours  of  yestordtiy.  The  only  h'tter 
of  Mr.  Webster  on  wliieh  I  ciin  L»v  niv  hand  in  time  to 
forward  yon,  as  you  request,  by  return  of  nmil,  is  a  very 
short  one  Avliich  you  co[)ied,  T  presume,  last  summer. 
Having  myself  quoted  a  i)art  of  it  in  a  speech  in  Faneuil 
Hall  last  AVednesdny,  there  is  the  less  impr()i)riety  in  send- 
ing- the  rest;  although  I  wish  I  could  send  you  one  in 
which  there  is  no  allusion  to  myself.  Most  of  the  letters 
which  I  receive  from  Mr.  AVebster  are  of  too  conlidential 
a  ua^"    d  to  be  published  for  a  long  time, 

I  remain,  with  nuich  regard,  j'^ours, 

Edwaui)  Ev^niETT. 

P.  S.  I  have  a  letter  from  Mr.  Webster  in  wiiich  you 
are  s})oken  of,  which  I  will  send  you  ii  it  can  be  got  at  in 
season.  The  letter  of  the  21st  of  July  wns  in  answer  to 
an  invitation  to  attend  the  dinner  of  the  Alumni  at  Cam- 
bridge. 

TJ>e  Enclosure. 

Boston,  July  21, 18r)2. 

Mff  dear  Sir,  —  T  go  to  Nahant  this  morning,  and  if  that 
of  to-morrow  shall  open  with  the  same  prospect  of  a  burn- 
ing (lav  as  this  h:is  done,  I  shall  remain  in  the  Swallows' 
Cave,  or  other  shelves  of  the  rocks.  Ihit  if  the  weather 
be  cooler,  I  shnll  hope  io  be  with  you  at  dinner  :it  Cam- 
liridge.  It  will  be  delightful  to  me  to  meet  so  ni:iny  as 
will  l)e  there,  not  yet  starred  in  the  catalogue,  and  to  rec- 
ollect othei's  who  are. 

But  a  main  pleasure,  my  dear  sir,  will  be  to  hear  you,  to 
whose  voice  I  have  not  listened,  either  in  the  i)ublic  nssem- 
bly  or  at  the  head  of  the  table,  for  a  very  long  time.     We 


EDWARD   KVKKKTT, 


133 


nn- 


hat 
irn- 
)\vs' 
lior 
aiii- 
y  as 


now  and  then  see  stretching  across  the  heavens  a  long 
streak  of  clear,  blue,  cerulean  sky,  without  cloud  or  mist 
or  haze  ;  and  such  appears  to  me  our  ac(iuaintance,  from 
the  time  when  I  heard  vou  for  a  week  recite  vour  lessons 
iu  the  little  schoolhouse  in  Short  Street  to  the  date  hereof. 

Yours  always  truly, 

Daniej.  Wki'.stkii. 

The  above  was  intended  for  the  lirst  edition  of  the 
"•Private  Life,"  but  was  omitted  out  of  regard  for  the 
opinion  which  IMr.  Everett  subsequently  expressed,  that 
"  it  would  be  out  of  taste  "  for  him  to  permit  its  publica- 
tion at  that  time.  There  were  other  reasons  also,  which 
soon  afterward  transpired,  calculated  to  keep  back  fn^ni 
the  printer  certain  other  letters,  already  in  the  j)ossessiou 
of  the  author ;  and  the  two  following  letters  from  Mr. 
Everett,  touching  their  disposition.,  are  not  without  interest : 

Boston,  ±1  Xovembcr,  b^.rJ. 

Dear  Sir^  —  T  heard  yesterday,  what  I  did  not  know  be- 
fore, that  I  was  named  iu  Mr.  Webster's  will  as  his  literary 
executor. 

This  has  led  me  to  reflect  seriously  upon  the  subject  of 
the  publication  of  his  letters.  They  will  form  the  most 
interesting  and  valuable  part  of  his  nn[)ublished  writings. 
If  judiciously  collected  and  edited,  they  will  add,  if  pos- 
sible, to  his  fame  ;  and  they  will  have  a  great  pecuniary 
value  for  his  family.  It  is  highly  desirable,  tlu'refore,  that 
they  should  not  be  published  in  detail,  but  that  they  should 
be  returned  to  the  family  for  the  purpose  of  publication 
e?i  masse.  Vour  exaiu[)le,  from  ycmr  known  comiection 
with  Mr.  Webster,  and  attachment  to  his  person  and  mem- 
ory, will  be  apt  to  give  encouragement  to  others  who  have 


^^^ 


'( 


134 


IIArilAZARD   rERSONALITIES. 


il 


his  letters  in  their  possession,  to  send  them  to  the  press. 
Would  it  not  be  better  for  you  to  withhold  them  ?  Lei>idly, 
I  believe,  the  })n)perty  of  letters  is  in  the  writer,  except 
for  the  purposes  for  which  they  were  written.  1  do  not 
throw  out  tills  last  suiiuestion  with  Ji  view  to  intlueuce  vou, 
lis  1  know  vou  will  i^ive  :dl  due  heed  to  the  other  views  of 
the  sul)ject.  When  I  wrote  to  you  hist  Siitiu'diiy,  it  was 
in  the  haste  of  the  moment,  without  time  for  reflection  (as 
you  wished  an  answer  bv  return  of  mail),  and  without 
knowino;  thnt  jNIr.  Webster  had  imposed  upon  me  any  duty 
in  reference  to  his  literary  remains. 

1  am,  dear  sir,  very  tndy  yours, 

Edward  Everett. 


Boston,  21st  December,  1851. 

Dear  Sir,  —  T  have  yours  of  the  19th,  with  a  copy  of  the 
*'  Personal  jNlemoiials  "  of  Mr.  Webster.  I  have  had  time 
to  glance  only  at  a  few  i)Miies  of  it,  but  they  are  enough 
to  satisfy  me  that  it  will  not  only  be  read  with  great  inter- 
est by  Mr.  AVebster's  personal  friends,  but  render  jrood 
service  in  promotiuii;  liis  political  interests.  I  think  very 
favorably  of  your  suggestion  as  to  jippending  Mr.  Choate's 
late  speecli  to  a  new  edition  of  your  '•  Memorials." 

I  am  very  glad  you  found  the  anecdote  1  sent  you  w(jrtli  • 
your  collection.     I  thought  it  very  interesting. 

I  will  look  at  such  of  Mv.  AVebster's  letters  as  I  have 
preserved,  and  if  I  lind  one  which  I  think  can  be  [)ub- 
lislied  with  i)ropriety  and  advantage,  you  shall  have  it. 
This,  however,  is  not  very  likely  to  be  the  case  ;  inasnmch 
as  the  very  circumstances  which  give  interest  to  such  let- 
ters render  them  also  confidential.  . 

I  enclose  you  a  cutting  from  a  newspaper  wh'.ch  stotey 


EDWARD    EVERETT. 


135 


some  tliiiiQ-s  a  little  more  fiillv  tlitin  T  liuve  seen  them  be- 
fore,  although  others  are  given  inaccurately. 

The  name  of  the  historian  of  Norwav,  at  tlie  bottom 
of  page  .'M  of  your  pamphlet,  should  be  Pontoppidau. 
'I'here  is  a  little  over-statement  in  that  anecdote.  Page 
.S7th,  line  7th,  "  dii)lomatique  corps"  would  look  ])ottcr  if 
printed  corpn  (Jiplomntiqne.  As  ])otli  the  woi'ds  are  French, 
thev  would  look  better  arranged  in  French  order  and 
printed  in  italics. 

There  was  a  dinner  given  at  Salem  to  Mr.  Webster  in 

bS.'M.     In  a  toast  at  that  dinner  this  sentiment  was  given 

in  additi<m  to  his  name,  "The  hiiihcst  honors  of  the  Con- 

stitniion  to  its  ablest  defender."     I  believe  that  this  is  the 

first  occasion  on   which  such   an   allusion  W'as   distinctly 

made. 

Yours,  dear  sir,  very  truly, 

Edavakd  Eveki-:tt. 

P.  S.  Page  35,  in  the  anecdote  relative  to  the  AVash- 
iugton  medals,  line  Ttli,  there  is  a  ))roper  name  spelt  wrong. 
I  enclose  a  scraj)  giving  an  extract  from  some  speech  of 
Mr.  Kantoul.  1  su[)[)ose  it  is  from  his  recent  eulogy  on 
Judge  Woodbury  ;  1  do  not  know  whether  it  is  accurately 
given. 

BosTox,  Dec.  20,  18.-)1. 

Doar  Si)\  —  T  enclose  you  a  printed  article  by  Hon. 
Charles  Miner,  formerly  INI.  C..  a  very  ingenious,  excellent 
l)erson,  author  of  a  "  History  of  Wyoming."  The  article 
contains  one  or  two  i)ersoHal  anecdotes  of  Mr.  AVebster. 

In  pre[)aring  :.,  new  edition  of  the  "Personal  Memo- 
rials," there  is  a  slight  inaccuracy  on  page  13th  which 
miglitl)e  corrected,  viz.  :  '•"Tii  (uhJifion  to  the  Latin  classics, 
he  studied  with  interest  both  Cicero  and  Virgil,"  etc.     In 


136 


HArnAZARD   rKRSONALITIES. 


ii'i^'; 


the  next  paragraph,  I  suppose  Mr.  Webster  had  the  di- 
l)l()ina  in  coniniun  with  all  his  class.  Page  9,  Mr.  Abbott 
will  point  out  to  you  a  slight  iiiaccnracy  in  your  reference 
to  Mr.  ])Uckniinster.  Page  2.'>,  the  articl^i  in  ''The  North 
American  Keview  "  was  written  1)V  Mr.  Ticknor.  ra'>e  '2i\, 
Mr.  Otis  inli»ht  be  named  among  the  eminent  lawyers  of 
the  Boston  bar. 

What  I  said  in  my  former  letter  alxmt  the  sea  serpent 
might  embarrass  yon,  without  further  ex[)lanation.  1 
think  the  naturalists  of  Boston  could  not  have  pronounced 
the  small  serpcMit  alluded  to,  ;ind  called  by  them  /Scofisphis^ 
to  be  exacthi  an'rcspondinif  with  that  described  in  Bishop 
Pontoppidiin's  work,  which  is  a  terrific;  monster,  rising  up 
from  the  sea  nearly  as  ]ii<>h  jis  the  mast.  Vou  mii'ht  say 
a  "■  miniature  resemblance." 

Page  17,  Ttiutaug  is  misprinted  Taubang.  rM})tain 
Crocker  transmitted  from  Buzznrd's  Bay  to  Massjichusetts 
Bay  a  large  num])er  of  tiiese  lisli,  a  subscrii)ti()n  haying 
been  raised  by  gentlemen  of  Jioston  to  defray  the  expense. 
This  is  the  orii»in  of  the  l)lack  lish  in  Massachusetts  liay. 
I  had  this  from  Captain  Crocker  at  New  Bedford  in  IHlJG. 

I  remain,  dear  sir,  very  truly  yours, 

Edward  \\ \er irrr. 


Department  of  Static,  Sth  Novemlxi-,  1S52. 
Dear  /Sir, —  I  have  your  nott;  of  this  inoi'uing  with  four- 
teen letters  of  Mr.  Webster's,  which  I  shall  lose  no  time 
in  transmitting  to  my  associates  in  Jioston.  1  sh;dl  be 
hapi)v,  when  it  is  convenient  to  you,  to  receive;  the  other 
letters  to  which  yon  allude. 

Yours,  dear  sir,  very  truly, 

Edward  Everett. 


lllpl 


El)WAin>    KVKUKTT. 


13^ 


A  letter  which  the  writer  h:ii)i)ens  to  have  in  his  posses- 
sion, written  1)y  Mr.  Everett  to  Mr.  Webster,  <!;ives  sneh  a 
[)k'!isin<>;  insight  into  the  editorial  hil)ors  of  tlie  f(^rnier,  that 
no  apology  is  needed  for  preserving  it  in  tliis  place :  — 

('AMivh'iiKJK,  'iath  August,  1852. 

Dear  Sh\  —  T  received  yours  of  the  2.')d  yesterchiy,  juid 
WMs  much  relieved  by  it.  I  siiould  not  only  liave  been 
very  sorry  to  omit  tiie  tariff  s[)eech  in  (pieslion,  but  should 
have  been  i)erplexed  from  not  knowiug  the  principle  of 
exclusion.  I  enclose  you  the  list  of  speeches  to  go  with 
the  tifth  volume,  as  drawn  out  l)y  Mr.  A])bott.  The  pencil 
marks  record  what  he  undei'stood  you  to  say  when  he  ri'ad 
the  list  to  you.  lie  may  have  read  it  to  you  at  a  moment 
of  uneasiness  or  preoccupation.  The  indications  of  the 
subjects  of  the  s[)eeches  may  sometimes  be  too  brief  to 
recall  them  distinctly  to  your  memory.  Vou  cau,  if  vou 
please,  I'un  it  over,  and  mark  with  your  ix'ucil  what  is  to 
])e  inserted  or  what  omitted.  If  vou  do  not  I'ecollect  suf- 
liciently  to  decide,  I  will  do  my  best.  I  ought  to  have  the 
pai)er  back,  if  possible,  ]»y  return  of   mail. 

I  sincerely  hope  that  your  nntive  air  :ind  comjiarative 
repose  will  protect  you  from  your  unwelconu!  animal  vis- 
itMiit.  It  is  not  without  compunction  that  1  invade  your 
retreat.  I  would  not  with  any  business  which  could  be 
done  ])y  any  one  else. 

Yours,  ever  sincerely, 

EdWAUI)   EVKIIKTT. 

P.  S.  Mr.  Abbott  gave  nie  to  understand  that,  iu  the 
speech  in  vindication  of  the  treaty  of  AVashington,  you 
wished  Mr.  C.  J.  Ingersoll  to  l»e  let  otf  more  gently  than 
he  is  in  the  speech  as  delivered  l\v  you.  It  is  not  very 
easy  to  mak  ;  a  trip  hannuer  strike  a  little  more  softly,  but 
1  will  do  what  1  cau. 


■ « ■ 


I 


'( 


138 


HAPHAZARD   PERSONA LTTTES. 


With  regard  to  the  grciat  mass  of  letters  addressed  by 
Mr.  Webster  to  Mr.  Everett,  it  may  here  be  stated  that  the 
hirgest  proportion  of  them  are  to  be  found  in  the  "  Private 
Correspondence"  of  the  former,  pubHshed  in  1857.  And 
now,  bv  wav  of  showing  how  Mr.  Everett  never  omitted 
to  do  a  kind  action  when  in  his  })ower,  and  more  especially 
when  it  was  in  any  way  connected  with  INIr.  Webster,  the 
f(>llowing  note  is  appended.  It  sliould  l)e  stated,  by  way 
of  exi)lanation,  that  when  Mr.  Everett  was  Secretary  of 
State  tlie  writer  had  charge  of  the  Copyright  Ihireau  in 
that  department ;  that  there  was  a  messenger  in  the  same 
department  who  had  been  devotedly  attached  to  Mr.  Web- 
ster ;  that  he  was  eminently  qualified  to  perform  the  duties 
of  a  copying  clerk,  and  was  exceedingly  anxious  for  pro- 
motion ;  and  when  the  writer  set  forth  tliese  facts  in  a  note 
to  IMr.  Everett,  in  connection  with  an  existing  vacancy, 
the  following  was  his  reply  :  — 


'In 


II: 


DEPART3IENT  OF  STATE,  3d  December,  1852. 

Dear  Sir,  —  I  was  very  happy  to  comply  with  3'our  rec- 
onnnendation  in  the  appointment  of  Mr.  George  Bartle. 
I  had  ah'eady  given  tlie  place  to  a  nephew,  who  is  on  liis 
wav  to  Washington,  as  I  was  desirous  of  having  a  relative 
near  me  whom  1  could  occasionally  employ  in  matters  of 
personal  confidence.  lint  as  soon  as  I  lieard  that  Mr. 
linrtle  had  earned  the  place  by  faithful  service  in  a  sul) 
ordinate  capacity,  I  determined  he  should  have  it. 

-    1  remain,  very  truly  yours,        _  i:.  ^^^^ 
.  .      ;  ^     Edwaku  Everett.    _ 

The  letter  which  follows  will  speak  for  itself :  — 


li^ 


:1 


EPWAKD   EVERETT. 


139 


Washington,  10th  Fobnuiry,  ISi')-!. 

Dear  Sir,  —  I  am  much  obliged  to  3'ou  for  the  eo[)y  of 
the  English  edition  of  your  life  of  Mr.  Webster,  kindly 
sent  with  your  note  of  yesterday.  • 

I  fully  concur  with  the  opinions  expressed  by  Mr.  Irving, 
on  the  subject  of  u  collective  edition  of  your  narrutive  and 
(l.'scri[)tive  writings.  Having,  during  :ill  the  time  since 
they  began  to  ai)pear,  been  engaged  on  ollicial  duties  which 
have  left  me  but  little  time  for  general  reading,  I  um  not 
familiar  with  all  of  them ;  but  from  what  I  have  read  of 
them  and  from  Mr.  Irving's  emphatic  and  discriminating 
connnendation,  I  am  confident  the  series  would  be  wel- 
comed by  a  large  class  of  readers. 

You  have  explored  nooks  in  our  scenery  seldom  visited, 
and  described  forms  of  life  and  manners  of  which  the 
greater  part  of  our  busy  population  are  wholly  ignorant. 
Toi)ics  of  this  kind,  though  briefly  sketched,  are  or  ought 
to  be,  in  this  country,  of  far  ureater  interest  than  the  at- 
tempted  descriptions  of  fashionable  life  in  Europe,  which 
form  the  staple  of  those  trashy  works  of  llction  constantly 
poured  in  upon  us  frt)m  abroad. 

Wishing  you  much  success  in  your  proposed  undertaking, 

I  remain,  very  truly  yours, 

EdWAKD  EVKIIETT. 


When  the  collected  writings,  uientioned  above,  were 
published,  I  sent  Mr.  Everett  a  copy,  and  he  returned  the 
following:  — 

Boston,  2d  January,  1857. 

Dear  Sir.  —  I  duly  received  your  letter  of  the  I^Oth,  and 
this  day  the  promised  volumes  came  to  hand.  I  am  much 
obliged  to  you  for  your  kindness  in  sending  them.     A 


% 


140 


IIArilAZAUD   PERSONALITIES. 


luisty  gliincG  at  tlu'ir  contents  convinces  me  tlmt,  in  tlie 
novelty  and  vurietv  of  the  tonics  treuted,  1  shall  iind  a  rich 
treat  for  more  than  one  leisure  hour. 

1  remain,  dear  sir,  with  the  friendly  salutations  of  the 
year.  Very  truly  yours, 

Edward  Evkrett. 

ITis  opinion  of  my  "Dictionary  of  Con<2,ress,"  a  copy 
of  which  I  sent  him  in  March,  18,")!),  was  as  follows : 
"•  1  am  nuich  ohlincd  to  you  for  the  present  of  a  copy  of 
this  valual)le  publication.  It  must  i)r<n'e  an  extremely 
convenient  and  useful  book  of  reference.  You  will  he 
l)leased  to  accept  my  thanks  for  your  friendly  notice  of 
myself." 

I  htive  many  other  letters  from  IMr.  Everett,  hut  they  do 
not  come  witiiin  the  limits  of  my  present  plan. 


i 


PARK   BENJAMIN. 

Among  those  who,  1)y  their  profession  and  genius,  have 
exerted  an  extensive  and  a  happy  intluence  on  the  liteni- 
ture  of  the  I'nited  States,  and  especially  the  weekly  press, 
Park  Benjamin  must  always  be  numbered.  His  family 
came  originally  from  AVales,  and  was  of  the  highest  re- 
spectability. His  father,  Avhose  name  he  inherited,  was  a 
leading  merchant  in  Demerara,  liritish  Guiana  ;  but  as  a 
branch  of  his  house  Avas  located  in  New  England,  he  was 
wont  to  spend  nuich  of  liis  time  in  Boston  or  New  Haven  ; 
and  it  was  while  makinfy  a  vova2;e  to  South  America,  in 
one  of  his  own  ships,  that  he  was  lost  at  sea,  no  tidings 
having  ever  been  heard  from  the  vessel  or  her  princely 
owner.     His  mother,  v.hile  residing  in  Boston,  and  after  a 


*i 


TAUK    IJKN.IAMIN. 


141 


'1 

y 

ti- 
ll 

;i 


a 


prolonged  widowhood,  became  ths  second  wife  of  the  Hon. 
James  Iwanman,  and  settled  in  Norwicli,  Conn.,  where, 
while  a  widow  for  the  second  time,  she  died  from  the 
effects  of  her  clothes  taking  (ire  when  she  was  alone  in  her 
chamber.  l*ark  had  one  brother  vonnii-er  than  himself, 
and  })ossessing  rare  accom})lishments,  who,  in  the  enjoy- 
ment of  a  handsome  i)atrimony,  sjx'nt  the  most  of  his  life 
in  Kurope,  and  died  in  Italy,  lie  left  behind  him  two 
sisters,  om*  of  whom  lost  her  hnsband,  a  gentleman  of 
snperior  cnlture  and  many  virtnes,  named  Lonis  Stackpole, 
by  a  railway  accident ;  while  the  other  sister  became  the 
wife  of  the  eminent  historian,  John  L.  ^lotlev. 

The  birthi)lace  of  Park  Benjamin  was  Demerara,  and 
the  year  of  his  birth,  l.SO'J  ;  and  althongh  he  only  si)ent  his 
childhood  in  Oniana,  he  brouiiht  awav  to  New  Enuland 
one  recollection  which  followed  him  to  the  grave.  The 
physician  who  had  him  in  charge,  while  yet  a  babe,  snb- 
jected  him  to  an  injudicious  and  baneful  process  of  ])atli- 
ing,  thereby  bringing  n})on  him  a  permanent  lameness. 
When  quite  young,  that  is,  in  LS^'),  he  entered  Harvard 
University,  but  on  account  of  his  liealth  was  oltligi'd  to 
leave  it  before  the  close  of  his  second  vear  ;  ])ut  soon  re- 
gaining  it,  he  entered  Washington  College  at  Hartford, 
and  after  graduating  with  the  liighest  honors  in  182!),  he 
went  throuu'h  a  course  of  Icual  studies  at  Caml)ridge,  and 
also  at  New  Haven,  and  was  admitted  to  the  l)ar  both  in 
Connecticut  and  ISIassachusetts.  Among  his  intimate 
associates  while  in  college  at  Hartford  was  no  less  noted 
a,  personage  than  N.  1*.  AVillis,  at  that  time  a  student  at 
Yale  College.  These  birds  of  a  feather,  on  the  score  of 
genius,  were  quite  intimate,  but  at  a  certain  diimer  party 
in  New  Haven  a  quarrel  sprung  up  between  them  which 
resulted  in  a  life-long  alienation.     Au  opinion  had  been 


( 


i ' 


'!( 


il 


142 


TlAPHAZAllD    PERSONALITIKS. 


M 


expressed  by  Willis  which  lienjamin  thoujifht  outrageous, 
aud,  as  a  lady  was  involved  in  the  affair,  the  latter  felt  it 
to  be  his  duty  to  destroy  the  matrinioiiial  aspirations  of 
the  former,  and  so  for  a  time  the  troul)le  seemed  to  have 
been  for<>:otten  by  all  the  i)arties  concerned.  Many  years 
afli'rwards,  however,  and  while  yet  lankling  under  the 
sn[»posed  wrong  which  he  liad  endured,  AVillis  thought 
proper  to  revenge  himself  in  a  manner  that  would  be  likely 
to  quiet  his  animosity  forever.  He  did  this  by  writing  aud 
printing  a  dramatic  poem  entitled  "  Don  Pedro  and  liis  Two 
Sisters,"  in  which  he  so  far  for<»;ot  himself  as  to  ridicule  the 
lameness  of  his  old  enemy,  and  by  that  act,  in  my  opinion, 
he  ijreatly  injured  his  own  fair  fame.  Should  any  of  those 
who  have  since  then  sufl'ered  from  the  critical  pen  of  l*ark 
lienjamin  make  the  retort  that  he  was  justly  served  by 
Willis,  they  ou<>lit  to  remember  that  while  it  is  excusable 
in  a  critic  to  condenui  a  stupid  or  unworthy  book,  it  is 
against  the  laws  of  nature  and  of  civilized  society  for 
any  one  to  make  sport  of  the  physical  misfortunes  of  a 
fellow- man. 

Prompted  ])y  his  tastes,  and  perhaps  by  his  inal)ility  to 
move  about  like  other  men,  Mr.  Benjamin  early  determined 
to  devote  liimself  to  literary  pursuits,  not  so  nuich  for  the 
purpose  of  making  money,  for  he  inherited  a  handsome 
fortune,  but  for  his  own  personal  amusement.  In  1835  he 
l)urchased  the  New  Entjlaml  Magazine  of  its  able  and  dis- 
tinguished founder,  Joseph  T.  Buckingham,  and  during  the 
closing  year  of  its  existence,  edited  it  with  discretion  and 
ability  It  was  at  that  time  that  he  formed  the  acquaint- 
ance of  such  men  as  Charles  Sprague,  Richard  H.  Dana, 
Henry  AV.  Longfellow,  and  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes,  and  I 
happen  to  know  that  all  these  gifted  poets  always  com- 
manded his  veneration  and  esteem.     The  touching  lyrics 


VAllK   UKN.IAMIN. 


11  ;j 


of  the  first,  he  knew  ])\  lu'iiil  ;  the  "  liuccimccr  "  wns  liis 
pJuliciilMr  fiii'iid  ;  the  ''N'oiccs  of  the  Ni^lit"  sank  (h-eply 
into  his  Koul,  aiul  lie  liad  a  vearnini'-  atleclioii  for  " 'IMie 
Ltist  Leaf,"  and  was  wont  to  sliout  like  a  wild  l)ov  as 
"The  Old  Ironsides"  i)assed  across  his  vision. 

In  18;]()  the  New  EikjUukI  Maijuzino  was  joined  (o  tlu^ 
Anicrican  Montlihi  Maf/aziiK^  ])nl)lislied  in  New  York,  of 
which  periodical  lie  was  tlu'  chief  editor  foi"  two  years, 
althongh  receivin*;"  valuable  aid  fi'oni  its  precedin<x  editor, 
Charles  F.  Hoffman,  lie  also  acted  for  a  time  as  reader 
for  the  house  of  Deaihorn  ifc  Co.  From  that  time  he  be- 
came a  resident  of  New  York,  and  contiimed  to  make  his 
home  there  duriny;  neailv  all  the  I'cmainder  of  his  life.  In 
IH.'j.S  he  joined  Horace  (I reelev  in  the  editorship  of  the  Now 
Yorker^  a  weekly  journal  devoted  to  i)olitics  and  literature. 
They  remained  to<»ether  only  al)out  two  years,  wlien  the 
paper,  thouoli  ably  condncted,  died  for  the  want  of  i)rolit- 
able  support,  arid  iNIr.  (ireeley  turned  his  mind  u[)()n  the 
Daibj  Tribune^  and  Mr.  Benjamin,  with  the  old  i)ublisher 
of  the  Neio  Yorker  to  help  him,  — Mr.  J.  Winchester, — 
proceeded  to  establish  a  mammoth  weekly  callecl  'Hie  New 
World.  This  journal  he  conducted  for  live  years  with  an 
enterprise,  a  gusto,  and  an  ability  which  greatly  extended 
Ids  reputation  as  an  editor,  and  gave  the  American  people 
some  new  ideas  in  regard  to  i)eriodical  literature.  He 
gathered  about  himself  a  host  of  the  bcht  writers  of  the 
day,  paid  them  handsomely,  and,  for  the  time  being,  ruled 
the  town  as  its  "guide,  counsellor,  and  friend"  in  all 
matters  appertaining  to  popular  literature.  Among  those 
whose  productions  he  pubUshed  were  such  men  as  Jolni  (). 
and  Epes  Sargent,  James  Aldrich,  AVm.  M.  Evarts,  H.  C. 
Demiug,  Edgar  A.  Poe,  11.  \V.  Herbert,  Kufus  W  .  (iris- 
wold,  John  Neal,  I.  D.  Hammond,  W.  A.  Duer,  E.  S. 


'  Hi 


r 


141 


?tAPnA5rA"n    fKHSOVALITIES. 


(iould,  CliiirU'H  EanuNS,  II.  \V.  Lon^ifi'llow,  Oliver  W. 
Holmes,  iiiid  inany  others.  He  also  oi'iijiiiated  the  plan  of 
repiihlishiiio-  in  cheMp  form  thc^  most  popular  Itooks  issued 
ill  I^niiland,  and  thereby  made  si  detnded  inroad  for  a  lime 
upon  the  l)ook-pnl)lishinji^  business  of  severul  leadinji;  lirm 
The  idea  of  bein<^  in  eonstant  communication  with  11. 
<4reat  reading  nndtitude  throuiihout  the  hind,  instead  of  a 
select  literary  public,  as  had  hitherto  been  his  fortune, 
haunted  him  for  u  time  like  a  passion.  lie  carried  his  en- 
teri)rise  so  far  as  to  issue  an  edition  of  the  valuable  but 
almost  f()ri>()tten  "  Chronicles  of  Froissart,"  and  em})loyed 
the  ablest  writers  he  could  command  to  su})ply  him  with 
early  translations  of  Eugene  Sue  antl  other  poi)ular  French 
authors.  The  live  years  during  which  he  wielded  the  scep- 
tre of  the  lloWrZ  were  the  busiest  of  his  life.  He  was  a 
])achel()r  at  the  time,  and  lived  in  handsome  stvle.  AVI* 
at  his  ollice  he  worked  without  ceasing,  and  very  hard,  I.. 
the  moment  he  emancipated  himself  from  business,  off  he 
started  in  his  gig  to  enjoy  fresh  air  and  anmse  himself  with 
th(!  novelties  of  the  town.  He  was  fond  of  a  handsome 
liorse,  and  was  expert  in  driving  ;  he  also  loved  a  good 
dog,  and  always  had  one  for  a  companion.  He  kiunv 
everybody,  and  was  fond  of  entertaining  his  friends,  and 
his  little  dinner  parties  were  delightful  in  the  extreme. 
His  house  was  tilled  with  books  and  pictures,  and  all  the 
fresh  pui)lications  of  the  world  were  constantly  de[)()sited 
in  his  home  library,  as  if  by  magic.  He  was  an  admirable 
reader,  and  talkevl  magnillcently  ;  and  when  in  the  mood, 
after  a  repast  that  could  not  well  be  excelled,  and  he  hap- 
pened to  have  some  special  friends  at  table,  one  </f  whom 
was  the  rising  lawyer,  William  ^l.  Fvarts,  he  would  wheel 
his  chair  into  his  favorite  position  and  pour  forth  a  flood 
of  wit  and  poetry,   selected  and   original,   wdiich  always 


PAIIK    liENJAMIN. 


145 


lie 

ih 
>u» 

the 
red 
.le 

;il)- 

(>m 

leel 

)()d 

avs 


seemed  to  be  iiioxliaustlble,  iiud  not  likely  ever  to  1)0  for- 
gotten  by  those  wlio  listened  to  him.  On  one  oeeasion 
that  I  remember  —  a  Sunday  eveniny; —  while  he  was  cut- 
ting  the  leaves  of  ii  new  edition  of  Coleridge's  poems, 
three  gentlemen  called  in,  merely  to  make  a  niomentary 
visit.  One  of  tiu^m  was  a  elergym;ui,  and  engaged  to 
preach  a  sermon  at  St.  J'aul's  in  al)out  an  iioiir;  Mnotlicr 
was  a  lawyer  who  had  promised  to  talve  a  lady  to  hear  the 
preacher  ;  and  tiie  other  was  a  young  gentleman  who  had 
a  special  engagement  with  his  lady-love.  Not  one  of 
them,  it  so  happened,  was  ftimiliar  with  "  Tlie  Ancient  Mar- 
iner," and  when  JMr.  Benjamin  found  this  out  by  accident, 
he  directed  his  visitors  to  be  quiet,  and  said  tlwit  he  would 
read  it  to  them.  They  remonstrated  and  plcMded  their 
several  excuses,  but  his  "glittering  eye"  lixed  them  in 
their  seats,  and  they  wre  silent.  lie  re;id  with  a  power 
that  was  as  marvellou  as  the  poem  itself ;  he  "had  his 
will,"  and  the  guests  ai  listenetl,  oblivious  of  everything 
but  the  weird  form  of  "Tiic  Ancient  JMariner."  Of  course 
the  progrannne  at  St.  Paul's  was  changed,  and  a  dozen 
years  thereafter  the  aforesaid  clergyman  was  wont  to  speak 
of  Mr.  Benjamin  as  "that  rascally  Park." 

With  the  windiug  up  of  the  N'etv  World  terminated  the 
onlv  really  successful  business  career  which  he  ever  ex- 
perienced.  Those  who  knew  him  best  were  astonished 
that  he  had  continued  in  it  for  even  five  years.  He  sub- 
sequently  made  one  or  two  other  ventmes  in  the  periodical 
line,  but  was  not  successful.  His  last  effort  was  made  in 
Baltimore.  Then  it  was  that  he  had  the  good  sense  to 
take  unto  himself  a  wife,  and  from  that  time  nntil  his 
death  he  occupied  his  time  in  a  quiet  manner,  with  the 
pleasures  of  literature,  wuth  the  education  of  his  children 
(all  of  wliom  inherited  a  goodly  portion  of  his  rare  talents) , 
10 


T 


146 


HAPHAZARD   rEKSONALITIKS, 


'If! 


and  wltli  the  congeiiitil  employment  of  delivering  an  occa- 
sional lecture  or  poem.  lie  died  at  his  residence  in  New 
York,  Sept.  12,  18G4. 

As  a  man  he  commanded  the  respect  of  all  who  knew 
liim.  Thougli  impulsive  and  somewhat  domineering  in  liis 
manners,  he  delighted  in  doing  good  with  kind  words  and 
with  his  i)urse.  He  respected  religious  men,  but  despised 
the  hypocrite  and  pretender.  He  was,  indeed,  quite  pop- 
ul^ir  with  the  clergy  ;  and  once,  when  Henry  AVard  Beecher 
asked  him  why  he  did  not  come  and  hear  liim  prench,  he 
rei)lied,  "  I  do  not  visit  places  of  anuisement  on  Sunday." 
As  a  scholar  liis  acquirements  were  very  extensive,  but  lie 
was  too  impulsive  by  nature  to  make  the  best  use  of  them. 
As  a  critic  he  was  disi)osed  to  be  severe ;  he  did  not 
always  spare  even  his  friends  when  an  opportunity  offered 
to  say  a  smart  thing  at  their  expense ;  and  when  he 
thought  an  author  really  unworthy,  he  took  pleasure  in 
covering  him  with  ridicule. 

In  all  this  there  was  no  real  malice,  for  it  resulted 
chiefly  from  a  h)ve  of  fun.  Tn  the  ei)igranHnatic  style  of 
his  prose,  he  resembled  William  Ilazlitt  That  he  was  a 
decided  wit  was  universally  conceded  bv  his  friends  and 
acquaintance  ;  :.iid  as  a  public  speaker,  whether  deliver- 
ing an  ordinjiry  lecture,  or  reciting  one  of  his  satirical 
poems,  he  was  sometimes  exceedingly  eloquent.  His  per- 
sonal appearance,  when  seated,  was  imj^osing.  His  liead 
>vas  lartje,  eves  of  ^  li<>iit  hazel,  and  his  bust  massive  :  l)ut 
his  lameness  waK  of  such  a  character  as  to  make  the  use 
of  two  crutches  constantly  necessary.  He  had  a  ringing 
but  nuisical  voice,  and  when  he  felt  well,  and  was  on  the 
"high  horse"  o^  excitement,  he  used  it  very  nnicli  after 
the  manner  of  a  stalwart  mariner  in  a  gale  of  wind,  and 
oftentimes  to  the  great  amusement  of   his   friends.     He 


w». 


PARK   BENJAMIN. 


117 


icul 

ier- 
■tid 
)iit 

IIKC 

tho 

Iter 

luid 

lie 


died  after  a  brief  Hliiess,  of  an  inrtiimniutory  disease, 
deeply  lamented  by  a  large  circle  of  personal  and  literary 
friends. 

I'lie  ruling  traits  of  INIr.  Benjamin's  character  are  to  be 
found  in  his  poetry.  Wliile  it  may  be  true  that  a  greater 
p.'irt  of  his  ciitical  writings  were  thrown  otf  upon  coini)ul- 
sion,  and  in  obedience  to  the  printer's  cry  for  ''co^n',"  his 
poetry  was  generally  the  offspring  of  his  henrt.  ISo  col- 
lection of  his  poetical  writings  was  ever  made  by  himself, 
and  hitheito  they  have  been  enjoyed  by  those  only  who 
hnd  the  opportunity  to  consult  the  files  of  the  New  Eug- 
hiiid  j\l(Uj<(zi)t<',  the  American  ^Foiifhl//,  tlie  Kitirlxcrhoclxcr^ 
the  Demori'dtic  MeDt'cw,  the  Xow  Yorl'cr,  the  Xoa  World, 
the  /Southern  Literary  j\r<'.sse)i(/('r,  and  nlso  seveiMl  lending 
dailv  iournals  of  the  dav.  It  is  true,  that  K.  ^V.  (Iris- 
wold,  in  his  com})ilation  of  "  American  Poi'try,"  gives  us 
al)out  twenty  of  his  pieces,  ])ut  they  do  not  l)egin  to  do 
him  justice. 

A  poem  entitled  "  The  jNIeditation  of  Nature,"  wliich  he 
delivered  before  the  Alumni  of  Washington  Colli'ge,  in 
1832,  stamped  him  fnmi  the  start  as  a  man  of  genius  and 
a  poet.  His  next  elal)orate  poem  was  a  satire  on  the  sul)- 
iectof  "Poetrv,"  wliich  he  delivered  before  the  JMercantile 
Library,  of  New  York,  in  1.*^I2,  wliich  was  received  with 
great  applause,  and  had  an  extensive  circulation  in 
pamphlet  f(n*m.  In  IS  I.')  he  ai)peared  before  a  Boston 
audience  with  a  poem  on  "  Infatuation."  '^hi^i  was  also  a 
satire,  and  an  improvement,  oerhaps,  on  his  previous  ef- 
fort in  the  same  stN'le. 

But  the  lyrical  writings  of  Park  Benjamin  occupy  a 
hiiiiier  o-round  than  his  satires,  and  tliev  are,  at  the  same 
time,  much  more  extensive.  It  is  through  them,  more- 
over, that  we  gain  the  best  insight  into  his  character.    The 


1 


148 


HArilAZARD   PERSONALITIES. 


1  i 


sentiinent  of  love  inspired  many  of  his  shorter  poems, 
l)iit,  iu  the  gretit  majority  of  his  effusions,  he  could  not 
helpLj;iving  expression  to  a  love  which  embraced  the  wliole 
of  human  kind.  Altliough  it  was  not  his  fortune  to  see 
much  of  tlie  ocean,  in  his  maturity,  the  fact  that  lie  had 
voyaged  on  the  Atlantic  when  a  child  inspired  him  with 
a  love  of  the  sea,  and  it  made  him  happy  to  sing  of  the 
"Nautilus,"  the  "Stormy  Petrel,"  and  the  "  :Mariners," 
whose  homes  were  on  the  deep.  With  wit  and  fun  his 
nature  was  overllowing,  and  his  satires  give  us  a  taste  of 
his  quality  in  those  particulars  ;  in  his  lyrics  he  seldom 
ventured  beyond  the  bounds  of  quiet  humor  ;  but  in  efforts 
of  this  kind  he  was  always  happy.  When  the  ]\e])eUion  of 
]<S(»l  brcjke  out,  his  sympathies  flew  at  once  to  the  Union 
cause,  and  some  of  his  poems,  bearing  upon  the  war,  are 
full  of  si)irit  and  no])ly  patriotic.  But,  after  all,  he  was 
most  at  home  wiien  dealing  with  the  beautiful  in  nature, 
and  especially  with  the  holi(!r  emotions  of  the  heart. 
While  I  think  that  he  did  well  iu  all  that  he  wrote,  and 
much  better  than  many  of  his  conqx'titors,  in  some  partic- 
ulars 1  do  not  hesitate  to  say  that  he  excelled  all  his 
American  rivals  as  a  writer  of  sonnets.  lie  had  a  special 
fondness  for  this  peculiar  branch  of  the  poetic  art,  and 
was  never  more  happy  than  when  rolling  out,  in  his  win- 
ning and  fli'xible  tones,  to  williuij  auditors,  some  of  tlie 
mastei'ly  sonnets  of  Shakespeare  or  JNIilton,  Sydney, 
Bowles,  or  Wordsworth.  In  what  he  attempted  to  do  he 
generally  succeeded.  He  wielded  the  critic's  pen  for  the 
public  weal,  and  accomplished  nuicli  good  undoul)tedly, 
but  when  his  efforts  in  that  line  are  all  forgotten,  his  poe- 
try will  have  found  a  pi'rmanent  resting-place  in  the  minds 
and  hearts  of  all  those  who  can  appreciate  the  productions 
of   true  genius,     lie  left  a  son  beariiig  his  own  name,  who 


PARK   BENJAMIN. 


141) 


sci'ins    to    Iwivo    inherited    much   of    liis    fiitlier's    lileniry 
a])inty. 

Of  the  many  letters  sent  to  me  hvIMr.  Benjamin,  I  sul)- 
mit  only  the  follo\vin<>-,  the  lirst  contiiinin<»;  an  aUusiou  to 
my  connection  with  the  Cincinnati  Chronicle,  and  when  he 
was  eonductin":  The  American  Continent :  — 


.:|l 


ln- 


lie 


Ihc 


he 


Le- 


ns 
ho 


BALTnioiiE,  April  4,  1840. 

2\fy  dear  Charles,  —  So  you  are  once  more  seated  in 
the  chair  editorial.  I  was  yery  glad  to  see  it,  and  I  trust 
you  will  not  soon  desert  your  present  position,  —  it  is  a 
higlily  fayorable  and  honoi-ahle  one,  —  and  you  may  rely 
upon  this,  if  you  stick  to  your  sent,  perseyere,  lahor,  never 
give  up,  you  will  attain  all  the  success  your  ambition  pic- 
tures. T  feel  truly  obliged  ])y  your  snuishing  of  Lester; 
1  shall  give  him  this  week  a  finishing  stroke  in  the  sh:n)e 
of  a  letter  from  Powers,  of  which  1  will  send  von  jiu  e:irlv 
co})y,  so  that  you  may  transfer  it  to  your  colunms,  with 
such  connuents  as  you  deem  proper. 

You  will  soon  see  in  the  Continent  such  .1  notice  of 
yourself,  in  your  present  connection,  as  will  please  you. 
Our  enterprise  here  has  been  quite  successful,  though  I 
caimot  say  I  am  particularly  in  love  with  lialtimore  as  a 
residence.  The  women  are  beautiful  as  llebes,  but  the 
men  are  a  sleepy  set,  though  ca[)ital  good  fellows  socially. 
There  is  noplace  for  me  like  New  York,  and  I  shouldn't 
wonder  if  we  should  take  up  our  whole  pi-inting  establisii- 
ment  and  walk  back  there  one  of  these  warm  sunnner 
mornings.  We  intend  nothing  of  the  soi't  at  present,  but 
we  shall  see.  There  is  prol)al)ly  no  eity  in  the  country  in 
which  there  is  so  little  literary  taste  as  here.  It  is  neither 
North  nor  South.  But  I  shall  liave  effected  aJl  the  object 
I  had  in  coming  here,  and  that  is  a  comfort.     Our  con- 


ir>o 


IIArilAZAliD    rEliaONALlTlES. 


ceni,  Willuiin  Tiiylor  &  Co.,  has  a  house  in  New  York 
and  one  in  Phihiclelphia.  If  you  will  say  a  word  in  our 
favor,  as  pu])lish(,'i's  and  clever  follows  for  AVesteru  folks 
to  deal  with,  you  will  confer  a  favor  on  nie. 

I  suppose  you  often  lu-ar  from  home.  They  were  all 
well  and  flourishing  when  I  last  heard  from  Norwich.  1 
trust  we  shall  meet  there  this  summer. 

Affectionately  and  truly  yours, 

Pahk  Uenjamin. 


I 


My  dear  Charley^  —  Addressing  you  thus,  with  the 
familiarity  of  ''Auld  Lang  Syne,"  1  ask  of  you  a  special 
favor.  You  are,  I  presume,  ^)c/*so?i(t//^  acquainted  with 
AVelles,  tlie  Secretary  of  the  Navv.  AVill  you  speak  a 
word  to  him  pemonaUy^  if  you  can  possibly  create  the 
opportunity,  in  favor  of  the  nomination  of  my  son,  l*;irk, 
as  midshipman  in  the  Nayal  Academy?  Mr.  Secretary  has 
power  to  nominate  to  all  vacancies  ;  and  there  are  just 
now  a  good  many,  the  Soidheni  districts  being  uiiui)plied 
for.  1  think  INlr.  AVclles  most  favoraljly  disposed  towards 
me,  and  I  feel  sure  that  a  word  '' s})oken  in  Sf^a.sou  "  to 
liim  will  be  effectual.  Will  you  now  take  or  make  occasion 
to  say  to  the  Secretary  that  necessary  word  in  behalf  of 
the  cliild  of  your  ancient  friend?  Park  is  a  fine  bov,  con- 
siderably  above  the  usual  size  of  lads  of  fourteen,  in  good 
health  and  very  well  educated.  He  has  all  the  re(piisites 
of  the  i)rhited  regulations,  and  would,  I  am  sure,  pass  a 
most  satisfactory  examination.  I  am  not  aware  that  this 
administration,  except  barely  in  the  a})p()intnK  ut  of  my 
brother-in-law,  IMotley,  to  Austria,  has  done  anything  to 
reward  or  even  I'ecognize  the  services  of  literary  m*  .i  to 
the  country.     Perhaps  you  might  hint  something  of  the 


PARK    BENJAMIN. 


151 


sort  to  Mv.  "SYelles.  Of  one  thing  I  am  confident,  my 
son's  appointment  to  the  Aciuleniy  wouhl  l)e  most  favorably 
received  ])y  my  coufreres  of  the  news[)ap(T  press.  Such 
'?^?q)olitical  appointments  —  when  })()litics  create  poor  gen- 
erals and  poor  custom-house  tide-waiters — are  alwnys, 
as  you  know,  cordially  commended  by  the  press  and  tlie 
public.  Do  what  you  can,  my  old  friend,  in  behalf  of  my 
son. 

We  are  living  here  at  No.  75  West  45th  Street,  near 
neighbors  to  your  sister  Julia,  who  is  at  8G  West  43d 
Street.     She  has  been  most  neii^-hborly  and  kind. 

I  am  indebted  to  3'ou  for  a  couple  of  introductory  epis- 
tles to  "  parties,"  as  the  Knglish  say,  in  Canada.  I  had 
no  occasion  to  use  them,  as  I  went  no  farther  than  Toronto, 
but  1  am  grateful  for  the  favor,  nevertheless,  and  espe- 
cially iiratitied  since  it  was  conferred  by  you. 

I  pray  yru  help  me,  if  you  can,  by  a  few  words  to  the 
Secretary  of  the  Navy,  and  believe  me,  as  of  yore, 

Truly  yours. 


New  York,  June  6, 18G3. 


Park  Benjamin. 


New  York,  Xov.  17,  1803. 
M}i  dear  Charley,  — I  am  engaged  to  lecture  in  Wash- 
ington on  Friday,  Dec.  4,  by  a  INIr.  AVolf,  of  AVolf  & 
Hart,  attorneys.  Is  he  ''good"  and  to  be  relied  on? 
Terms,  $100  and  hotel  expenses.  I  expect,  accom[)anied 
by  my  son  Cieoriie,  to  bo  in  AVasliinijton  on  the  3d  or 
4th.  Do  you  want  us  to  come  and  make  you  a  small 
visit?  As  I  abominate  hotels,  I  would  willingly  save  INIr. 
Wolf  the  ex[)ense,  especially  as  my  doing  so  might  induce 
him  to  give  the  same  money  for  one  or  two  more  lectures, 
this  and  following.     Now  write  me  candidly  in  reply  how 


i 


!l 


^1 


152 


nArHAZAIll)    PERSON ALITIES. 


you  are  at  prescut  situated,  whether  2>CKf'^ctly  convenient 
and  so  forth. 

The  probability  is  that  I  shall  not  remain  except  for  a 
day  ;  l)ut  I  may  for  some  days,  in  which  case  I  suppose  I 
could  lind  some  quiet  abidin<i;-place,  and  not  be  com})elled 
to  go  to  one  of  those  huge  caravansnries  whose  stairs  I 
can't  get  up  and  down.  Do  you  know  j\Ir.  AVolf  ?  If  not, 
can't  you  see  and  confer  with  him  as  to  engaging  for  me  a 
quiet  apartment  low  down-stairs  somewhere.  Tliere  used 
to  be  in  Washington  some  good  lodgings,  kept  by  "  con- 
trabands," that  would  suit  me  exactly.  But  I  can't  go  up 
to  a  sky-i)arlor  in  a  hotel. 

Let  me  hear  from  you  ns  soon  as  convenient,  and  tell 
me  of  a  yood,  first-rate  place,  not  a  hotel,  if  you  know  of 
one.  Affectionately, 

Park  Benjamit^. 


P.  S.  I  did  not,  as  I  think  I  explained  to  you,  pro- 
pose to  visit  you  (in  acceptance  of  your  invitation)  on  the 
score  of  economy.  INIr.  AVolf's  baruain  is  to  nay  me  $1()() 
and  my  expenses  at  liolel  in  Washington.  1  lio})e  he  will 
conclude  to  liave  a  second  lecture  on  the  IVtonday  eyenin*]: 
following,  namely,  on  INEonday,  Dec.  7  ;  I  think  it  would 
pay  him,  and  it  certainly  would  pay  me  better  for  coming 
so  far.     Pray  try  and  use  your  influence  to  have  him  do  so. 


|(lli 


1 

i 

{           t 

^•f 

New  York,  Xov.  24,  1803. 
Mil  dear  Charles^  —  I  find  your  letter  on  getting  liome 
to-night.  I  fully  appreciate  your  kindness.  I  should  not 
have  thought  of  coming  to  vour  house  at  all,  had  vou  not 
so  particularly  invited  me  when  you  were  in  New  York, 
but  I  suppose  the  staircases  were  differently  constructed 
at  that  time  ;  but,  seriously  speaking,  I  feel  truly  obliged 


PARK    BENJAMIN. 


ir>3 


to  you,  iiiul  shall  be  very  grateful  for  all  that  you  can  say 
in  tlie  Infelliyencer,  or  elsewlierc,  a])out  my  lectures. 

I  hope  you  are  not  going  out  of  AVashington  on  purpose, 
so  as  not  to  be  bored  with  going  to  the  lectures. 

I  shall  be  sorry  to  l;e  denied  the  pleasure  of  a  sight  of 
your  dear,  familiar  visage. 

JNlr.  Wolf  wrote  me,  there  is  somewhere  in  "Washington 
a  Mrs.  Patten,  who  used  to  board  me  in  N(!W  York,  She 
keeps  house,  and  I  wish  she  could  be  discovered,  she 
would  be  glad  to  give  me  her  best  room.  But  1  have  not 
her  address. 

Is  Donald  IMacleod  in  the  Treasury  Department?  See 
him  and  ask  him  why  he  did  not  answer  my  letters,  please. 

George,  my  son,  will  come  with  me.  1  dare  say  you 
and  Mr.  Wolf  will  llnd  me  some  quiet  lodging. 

Affectionatelv, 

Pauk  Benjamin. 

There  is,  in  P»'ofessor  Longfellow's  "Outre  Mer,"  an 
affecting  incident,  beautifully  told,  of  the  death  of  a  young 
Irislnnan,  who  had  come  to  Italy  to  study  at  the  Jesuit 
College  in  Kome,  and  had  taken  the  orders  of  a  Capuchin 
friar.  The  original  draft  of  a  poem  written  by  INIr.  Ben- 
jamin on  this  sul)ject,  entitled  "'  The  Ca[)ucliin  Friar," 
was  presented  to  me,  and  1  print  it  with  great  pleasure. 

While  dying,  the  Fi'iar  knew  of  his  situation,  but  would 
not  give  up  the  hope  of  reaching  his  own  home  before  his 
decease.  He  spoke  of  his  return  to  his  native  land  with 
childish  delight.  This  hope  luid  not  deserted  him.  It 
seemed  never  to  have  entered  his  mind  that  even  this  con- 
solation would  be  denied  him,  and  that  death  would 
thwart  even  these  fond  anticipations.  "  I  shall  soon  be 
well  enough,"  said  he. 


«! 


L     ! 


154 


HAPHAZARD   PERSONALITIES. 


"  Oil,  I  shall  soon  be  well ;  I  shall  not  die 
Beneath  the  glories  of  this  melting  sky,  — 
These  soft,  deep  hues  that  bathe  the  classic  land 
Of  Italy.     These  gales  that  are  so  bland. 
So  balmy,  and  so  cool,  npon  my  grave 
Shall  not,  at  vesper's  chiming,  rest  and  wave  I 
Tell  me  not  I  am  dying ;  for  1  feel 
New  blood  nectarian  through  my  arteries  steal, 
And  blest  Ilygeia  fans  me  with  her  wings 
Laved  in  the  source  of  Life's  perennial  springs. 
But  a  few  days  will  pass,  and  I  shall  be 
Upon  my  home-return,  dear  friend,  with  thee. 
With  thee  I  '11  leave  each  hoary  Apennine, 
Cross  the  high  Alps,  and  sail  adown  the  Rhine, 
Pass  England's  vales,  where  joy  and  plenty  smile, 
And  greet  thy  shore,  my  own  bright  emerald  isle ! 
Then,  niocher,  sisters  !  your  soft  hands  shall  stray 
O'er  my  flushed  cheeks  and  cool  the  heat  away ; 
And  when  the  death-dew  beads  my  stony  brow, 
Mark  with  what  truth  I  kept  my  holy  vow,  — 
My  vow  to  heaven,  to  live  uniouched  by  love. 
Save  that  of  earthly  saints  for  saints  above,  — 
The  love  our  Saviour  knew,  could  he  have  died 
Nor  in  his  anguish  on  his  mother  cried  !  " 


Mi! 


>  ii  Wli 


I     :# 


lie  ceased  and  turned  his  forehead  to  the  air 
That  came  from  flowery  banks  to  visit  there 
The  sick  man's  couch ;  the  twilight  shadows  fell 
In  deeper  lines  —  I  l)reathcil  my  sad  farewell; 
But  going,  turned  once  more  that  face  to  view. 
Once  more  to  see  that  cheek's  carnation  hue. 
Ills  eyes  were  closed,  a  smile  of  beauty  slept 
On  his  thin  lips  :  I  turned  away  and  wept ! 
When  breathless  I  arose,  he  had  not  stirred 
And  quiet  lay,  until  an  evening  bird, 
Hidden  among  the  leaves  of  some  near  t-ee. 
Poured  sudden  forth  a  flood  of  melody  ! 


in 


IIOIIACE    (JllKKLKY. 


155 


*•  I  know  that  strain  !  "  he;  cried,  "  I  know  that  strain; 

Sing  nie  to  sleep,  sweet  sister,  sii'g  again  !  " 

He  sank  to  sleep  —  to  sleep,  to  dream  that  he 

Had  crossed  the  billows  of  the  far,  wide  sea; 

That  in  his  mother's  cottage  door  he  stood 

And  gazed  on  each  familiar  stream  and  wood. 

Alas  !  't  was  all  in  dreams ;  few  evenings  passed 

Ere  the  self-exiled  stranger  sighed  his  last; 

And  that  young  heart  was  free  as  air  to  roam 

Not  to  his  earthly  but  liis  heavenly  home. 

Pakk  Bknjamin. 
NoKWicii,  Aug.  14,  1837. 


IIOIIACE   GREELEY. 

To  use  the  laiiontige  of  Wordsworth  in  rej^ard  to  anotlier, 
the  soul  of  Horace  Greeley  ''  was  like  a  stai-,  and  dwelt 
apart,"  but  his  star  passed  into  a  cloud,  and  the  tempo- 
rary eclipse  saddened  the  entire  nation  wliich  his  life  had 
honored.  I  first  became  accjuainted  with  him  when  he 
was  pul)lishini»;  the  New  17>/7iy-'r  and  before  he  had  sttirted 
the  Tribune,  for  both  of  which  journals  I  wrote  some  of 
my  lirst  newspaper  paragra})hs.  I  used  to  meet  him  at  the 
hoL'se  of  my  kinsman,  Park  Benjamin,  and  the  impres- 
sions that  I  then  received  of  his  hiiih  character  and  rare 
benevolence,  from  personal  observation,  steadily  followed 
me  through  life  down  to  the  time  of  his  lamented  death. 
I  never  agreed  with  him  in  his  religious  views  and  all  his 
various  schemes  of  reform  and  benevolence,  nor  could  I 
always  agree  with  him  in  politics  ;  but,  as  a  man  of  mind 
and  of  the  strictest  honor,  he  commanded  my  admiration, 
and  I  loved  him. as  a  friend. 

His  first  letter  to  me  was  written  in  1846,  and  the  last 


15C 


HAPHAZARD   TERSONALITIES. 


ill  1H72;  niul  it  was  in  the  foniuT  year  tluit  he  recom- 
jiRMKU'd  iiu;  ill  11  most  ilattoriiig  insinucr  for  the  lihrjirliin- 
ship  of  the  IMercjiiitile  Librury  in  New  York.  Jii  1^6.), 
after  my  friend,  Emerson  Etlu'ritls^e,  hiul  written  u  politi- 
cal hitter  whieli  attracted  nnicli  attention,  jMr.  (ireelev  re- 
viewed  it  in  severe  terms,  jmd  I  was  induced  to  defend 
the  motives  of  my  friend,  if  not  his  arjynment.  To  tliat 
letter  he  sent  me  the  following  reply,  which  shows  with 
what  fearlessness  and  earnestness  he  was  always  ready 
to  battle  for  what  he  considered  right :  — 

Office  of  The  Tuiiujne,  N.  Y.,  Oct.  2, 1863. 

My  dear  Sir,  —  I  have  received  yours  of  yesterday.  If 
Mr.  Etheridge  had  been  a  nullilier,  or  even  a  pro-slavery 
fanatic,  his  letter  to  ]\[emi)his  would  have  been  explicable, 
if  not  excusable;  l)ut  I  know  him  to  have  been  nothing 
of  the  kind  in  other  days.  I  think,  quite  as  earnestly  as 
he  does,  that  the  President  has  trtnited  Tennessee  badly, 
but  it  was  by  exempting  her  from  the  operation  of  his 
proclamation  of  freedom.  Had  he  not  done  this,  she 
would  ere  this  have  been  a  free,  therefore  a  loval  and 
trancpiil  State,  on  the  high  road  to  peace  and  prosperity. 
lint  Emerson  Etheridge  did  not  assail  him  for  what  he  had 
done  ill,  but  for  what  he  had  done  well. 

In  IHOO,  I  insisted  that  Mr.  Etheridge  should  be  made 
clerk  of  the  House  of  Representatives.  When  I  did  so  his 
name  had  not  been  suggested,  and  I  do  not  believe  he  had 
himself  thought  of  the  oflice.  T  knew  he  was  not  a 
Republican  ;  but  I  supposed  he  had  eyes.  Ilis  blow  at  the 
President  and  his  policy  in  the  Memphis  letter  was  unfairly 
dealt ;  it  was  a  parricidal  stroke  in  the  back,  and  it  can- 
not be  forgiven.  It  proves  him  ftdse-hearted  and  un- 
grateful,  and   the    Breckenridge   Democrats   with  Andy 


HORAOR   ORERLRY. 


i:)7 


Johnson  have  perceived  the  tnitli  tliat  henecforth  tlie 
Iniou  jind  bhivcry  cannot  coexist.  It  ^va.s  too  late  foi' 
Kucii  a  letter  to  have  proccinh-d  from  an  intclliujent  convic- 
tiou  ;  its  .spirit  was  bad  and  its  terms  insulting. 

Yours, 

Horace  Grkkley. 

On  two  occasions  T  took  the  libertv  of  consnltini!;  IVFr. 
Greeley  in  regard  to  my  **  Dictionary  of  Congress,"  and 
the  two  following  letters  were  the  result :  — 

New  York,  Dec.  lo,  1805. 

Fn'end  Lcuwum, —  The  publication  of  a  "Dictionary 
of  Congress,"  extended  and  corrected  from  year  to  year, 
so  as  to  keep  it  fresli  and  authentic,  is  a  wise  and  [)roHt- 
ablo  enterprise,  Avherel)y  the  autlior  ought  to  make  a  good 
living.  You  can  make  one  1)V  it,  if  vou  will.  IJut  1  see 
no  more  retison  for  making  this  a  job,  than  for  doing  the 
like  with  liurke's  or  anv  other  'vPeerage."  If  vou  Mill 
first  cut  loose  from  Congress,  and  make  it  a  work  for  the 
people,  giving  the  election  returns,  with  the  rules  and 
parliamentary  companion,  I  sliall  be  glad  to  commend  it, 
and  feel  sure  tliat  you  will  do  well  by  it.  I  do  not  see 
how  any  book  that  Congress  patronizes  can  be  good  for 
anything,  since  it  cannot  afford  to  tell  unpleasant  truths. 

Yours, 

Horace  Greeley. 

New  York,  :May  11, 18G8. 

Dear  Sir,  —  I  learn  with  pleasure  that  you  are  al)out  to 

revise  your  '•  Dictionary  of  Congress,"  enlarge  its  scope, 

and  separate  it  altogether  from   any  connection   with  or 

hope  of  official  patronage.      I   l)eg  you   to   speak  without 


ir)H 


lIArHAZAUI)   PKUSONALITIKS. 


ili; 


roHcrvc,  Jiud  with  ontirc  cjindor  of  every  porHon  who  shall 
1)15  (h'ciiu'd  worth  Kpcnkiiiiu^  of  at  all.  A  work  coinpoHcd 
of  solid  J)io^r:iphi(;!d  faets,  hIioiii  alike  of  |)r:iiso  and 
l»lanie,  but  uiiimpeiichahly  aeeiirate  in  all  i)oints,  is  needed 
and  will  \h)  readily  ap[)reeiated.      Yours, 

iiOllACIO  (Jkkklky. 

In  a  friendly  letter  whieh  I  addressed  to  Mr.  (Jreelev, 
about  the  time  of  his  nomination  for  the  I'rtisidenev,  I 
alluded  to  the  old  times  in  New  York  —  alujut  one  tliird  of 
a  century  Ix'fore — wIkmi  we  first  l)eeanie  accpniintiMl,  and 
in  view  of  his  position  and  popularity,  I  nwide  the  remiirk 
tlmt  *'  the  ])(M)ple  knew  tin  honest  man  when  they  saw 
him,"  and  this  was  Mr.  (Jreelev's  replv  :  — 

Niiw  YouK,  Juno  27,  1H72. 
Friend  Lanman^  —  Thanks  for  yours  of  the  2r>th  inst. 
T  liave  all  my  life  been  (loin<jj  wh:it  people  called  vastly 
foolish,  im[)olitic  acts,  and  1  did  n(;t  dis[)ute  their  ju(l<r- 
ment.  I  only  siiid  that  what  I  did  seemed  to  me  the  riixht 
thing.  If  I  should  die  before  election,  or  be  ])eaten 
therein,  please  testify  for  me  that  I  do  not  re<»;ret  havinijj 
braved  public  opinion,  when  1  thought  it  wrong  and  knew 
it  to  be  merciless.  Y'ours, 

IIoKACE  Greeley. 

A  few  weeks  after  Mr.   Greeley's  nominatio      f 
Presidency,  one  of  his  political  supporters,  v  y 

friendship  for  him  personally,  but  wiio  also  .'w  tli  I 
was  nothing  of  a  poiiticinn,  asked  me  to  give  him  a  atch 
of  reasons  why  he  should  be  elected,  and  this  wa?>  my 
reply  :  — 

"  He  is  a  man  of  thought.  ITis  instincts  and  hal)its  are 
those  of  a  gentleman.     He  is  a  true  patriot,  and  in  his 


HORACE   GRKEUBT. 


159 


knowledge  of  stiilesmjinship  has  no  superior  among  living 
Americans.  lie  was  not  the  creature  of  accident,  but  is 
a  lirst-cljiss  Kpecimcn  of  a  self-made  man.  lie  has  always 
niMnifi'sted  a  regard  for  n'ligion,  l)ut  could  never  wear  the 
garl»  of  righteousness  for  selllsh  purposes.  He  is  a  lover 
of  iiis  fellow-nien,  and  lias  done  (juite  as  much  as  any  other 
to  elevate  the  average;  standard  of  tlie  American  character. 
His  reputation  as  an  editor  is  well-nigh  uiuMiualled.  lie 
has  schooled  an  entire  gt'ueration  in  the  ways  of  })olitical 
knowledge.  He  is  a  man  of  the  rarest  charity,  both  in 
his  heart  and  with  his  liand. 

"As  a  politician  his  motives  have  never  been  impeached. 
He  has  never  been  an  olllce-seeker,  but  has  habitually 
made  war  upon  demagogues.  As  a  husbnnd  and  father, 
he  is  without  reproach.  As  a  friend,  lie  has  always  been 
as  true  as  steel.  AVliile  wielding  power  and  possessing 
his  honestly  ac(piired  wealth,  he  has  never  taken  U[)on  him- 
self the  airs  of  an  siristocrat.  Klevated  and  earnest  in 
his  asi)irations,  he  has  been  a  follower  of  truth,  not  only 
for  its  own  sake,  but  for  the  comfort  and  hnppiness  of  his 
fellow-men.  His  honor  and  sense  of  justice  have  always 
been  without  re[)roach.  His  labors  as  a  writer  have  given 
liim  a  world-wide  reputation. 

"  At  the  head  of  a  i2:reat  establishment,  he  has  alwavs  been 
considerate  of  the  feelings  of  those  in  his  empk)y.  He  came 
from  the  heart  of  the  people,  and  has  always  been  a  repre- 
sentative friend  of  their  interests  and  welfare.  AV'hile  ag- 
gressive in  his  cliaracter  in  the  cause  of  truth,  his  impulses 
have  been  to  foroive  the  erriu"'.  Althou<>;h  a  determined 
politician,  he  has  recognized  the  merit  or  good  intentions 
of  those  who  were  not  of  his  party.  He  has  never  sold 
his  intluence  for  money.  His  boldness  and  self-reliance 
have  been  manifested  by  his  manner  of  addressing  public 


no 


nAniAZAUD   PERSONALITIES. 


as8em))lies  on  the  issues  of  the  dav.  Always  a  hard- 
working  man  Iiiniaelf,  he  has  entertained  tlie  greatest 
respect  for  those  who  have  to  toil  for  a  living. 

""He  is  in  all  respects  a  man  of  temix'rance  in  his 
appetites.  His  personal  associations  are  not  with  the  low 
and  the  depraved,  })ijt  with  the  moral  and  cultivated 
classes.     He  is  not  the  victim  of  anv  debasing  indulijences. 

ft-  *n  Cv 

His  knowledge  and  wisdom  t  re  not  circumscriljed  by  the 
profession  which  he  h;is  done  so  nuicn  to  elevate.  The 
farmers  of  the  United  States  have  never  had  a  better 
friend  ;  and  there  is  no  class  of  the  industrial  population 
for  whose  prosperity  he  has  not  labored  with  zeal  and 
effect.  Whenever  he  has  held  a  public  i)osition,  he  has 
always  actpiitted  himself  with  ability  and  credit.  His  ideas 
of  private  and  public  economy  have  always  been  wise, 
rigid  without  meanness.  He  has  been,  by  his  writings, 
a  teacher  of  statesmen,  and  fully  deserves  the  honor  of 
occupying  the  position  of  President  of  the  United  States." 
In  the  way  of  coincidences  the  followin:>'  are  a  little 
curious :  It  was  Mr.  Greeley  who  virtually  nominated 
Emerson  Etheridge  for  the  position  of  clerk  of  the  House 
of  Representatives ;  it  was  Mr.  Etheridge  who,  at  the 
request  of  fifty  congressmen,  appointed  me  librarian  of 
the  House  of  liepriisentatives  ;  and  the  man  who  succeeded 
me  as  librarian  was  Whitelaw  lleid,  who  subsecpiently 
became  the  editor  of  the  Tribune. 


(II 


1 1  '» 


PETER   EORCE. 


TiTK  American  histcu'ian  whose  library  was  for  many 
years  to  the  bookworm  the  sunniest  spot  in  Washing- 
ton   was  born  in  New  Jersey,    Nov.    20,    171>0.      AVhen 


11] 


TKTiai  roiicE. 


IGl 


a  child  lie  was  removed  to  New  York  City,  where  he 
.'ic(|uire(l  the  art  of  a  printer,  and  practised  it  initil  liis 
twenty-fifth  year.  While  yet  au  apprentice,  his  h)ve  for 
l)ooks  was  so  strong-  that  all  his  weekly  earnings  were  reg- 
nlarly  expcinded  at  the  book  anctionsof  K<)bert]McMenonie, 
who  kei)t  a  shop  on  Water  Street,  near  the  Tontine  coffee- 
house, and  who,  in  the  kindness  of  his  lieart,  was  wont  to 
knock  down  a  book  to  his  \'onthful  patron,  when  he  knew 
that  the  boy  had  expended  his  h'st  penny.  When  tlie 
second  edition  of  "  Knickerbocker's  History  of  New  York" 
was  printed,  young  Force  was  foreman  of  the  (jlfice  where 
the  work  was  done.  One  morning,  while  reading  a  lot  of 
proofs  ])efore  sending  +hem  to  Mr.  Trying,  he  came  to  the 
list  of  old  Dutdi  names,  and  by  way  of  a  joke,  he  added 
some  half-dozen  other  authentic  names,  that  the  author 
had  jtrobably  forgotten  or  never  heard  of  ;  and  the  proofs 
were  i-eturned  to  the  oilitj  l)y  ]Mr.  Irving  with  these  words, 
"N'cry  go'"l.  let  them  go  in";  and  they  have  all  been 
retained  in  the  subsequent  editions  of  the  work. 

In  LSI,'),  ^Ir.  Force  removed  to  the  city  of  Washington, 
with  whose  prosperity,  and  the  history  of  the  general  gov- 
ernment, he  was  long  and  honorably  identified,  in  bS'JO  he 
became  the  compiler  as  well  as  printer  of  the  ''Biennial 
Kegister,"  commenced  bv  act  of  Congress  in  J.SK;,  and 
this  work  he  contumed  to  edit  and  print  until  1.S2.S  ;  for 
his  services  as  compiler  he  received  nothing,  whih'  the 
same  A\ork  is  now  [»erformed  by  a  clerk  in  the  Department 
of  the  Interior,  who  receives  extra  compensation.  The 
term  "  Blue  liook,"  as  a[)[)lied  to  the  "  Biennial  Begister," 
was  not  recognized  until  1820,  the  new  title  having  been 
suggested  ])y  IMr.  Force,  since  which  })eriod  the  work  has 
invariably  been  Ixjund  in  blue  leather.  Ilis  idea,  was  to 
have  something  diiterent  from  the  English  books  of  simi- 
11 


162 


HAPHAZARD   PERSONALITIES. 


U 


I    . 


It!l 


lar  cliaracter,  which  were  bound  in  red,  and  called  "  Red 
Books  "  ;  and  it  is  worthy  of  remark  that,  within  the  last 
twenty  or  thirty  3^ears,  the  English  government  has  bor- 
rowed the  American  idea,  and  now  publish  what  they  call 
a  "lihie  Book."  At  the  time  that  he  took  charge  of  the 
"Register,"  in  1820,  INIr.  Force  began  the  publication,  as 
editor,  of  a  '  National  Calendar,"  wdiicli  was  issued  on 
the  first  day  of  every  year,  until  188G,  and  was  pronounced 
by  the  best  men  of  the  country  a  work  of  great  utility. 
In  1823  he  also  became  the  proprietor  of  a  daily  paper, 
called  the  National  Journal^  which  he  published  and 
edited  until  1830,  the  same  having  been  the  oflicial  paper 
during  the  administration  of  John  (^uincy  Adams  ;  from 
1830  to  1840  he  was  mayor  of  Washington ;  and  for 
many  years  he  was  the  honored  i>i-esident  of  the  National 
Institute,  located  in  the  metropolis.  He  w^as  also  for 
many  years  a  leading  olficer  of  the  district  militia. 

In  183G,  prompted  by  a  desire  to  extend  the  knowledge 
of  American  history,  ]\Ir.  Force  i)ublished,  in  four  vol- 
umes, a  series  of  "Tracts  and  other  Papers  "  relating  to 
the  origin,  settlement,  and  progress  of  the  North  Ameri- 
can Colonies.  The  original  material  from  which  this  work 
was  compiled  was  widely  scattered,  veiy  rare,  and  of  in- 
tense interest  to  all  those  who  take  pleasure  in  tracing, 
step  by  step,  the  progress  of  the  Colonies  in  population, 
wealth,  and  power,  from  the  landing  of  the  first  white  man 
to  the  establishment  of  a  free  and  independent  govern- 
ment ;  and  the  work  has  ever  been  considered  an  invalu- 
al^le  addition  to  our  historic  lore. 

But  the  great  work  with  which  Mr.  Force  is  identified 
is  the  publication  known  as  "  American  Archives  :  a  Doc- 
umentary History  of  the  English  Colonies  in  North  Amer- 
lea,"  from  1774  to  the  Declaration  of  Independence.    The 


^ili 


m 


PETEK   FORCE. 


103 


'5 


le 


idea  originated  with  him,  was  compiled  ])v  liim,  and  puh- 
lislied  l)y  liim  in  conjunction  with  Matthew  St.  Chiir  Chirke, 
iukUt  the  authority  of  Congress  and  at  tlie  expense  of  the 
general  government.  The  act  of  Congress  was  passed  in 
180^5,  and  the  first  volume  of  the  work,  which  is  a  large 
folio,  was  pi'inted  in  l<s;)7  ;  and,  up  to  the  present  time, 
nine  volumes  have  been  i)ul»lished,  at  a  cost  of  twenty 
thousand  dollars  per  volume,  or  one  hundred  and  eighty 
thousand  dollars  for  the  set  thus  far  completed.  In  the 
prosecution  of  his  labors  the  compiler  began  by  making  a 
personal  examination  of  the  public  archives  in  the  thirteen 
oi'iginal  States  of  the  Union  ;  and,  in  carrying  out  his  great 
design,  he  spared  no  pains  nor  research  nor  money  in  ob- 
taining such  print'd  and  original  documents  and  such  cor- 
respondence as  would  form  a  perfectly  consecutive  history 
of  the  vital  period  in  our  national  life.  "What  the  com- 
piler claimed  for  the  work  was  strictly  due,  and  it  unfolds 
and  develops  the  whole  foundtitionof  American  principles, 
and  exhibits  to  the  world  the  most  conclusive  evidence 
thtit  they  were,  without  exception,  grounded  in  strict  right, 
based  upon  constitutional  law,  and  upon  iliG  well-settled 
doctrines  of  tiie  English  government;  the  practical  trulh 
deducible  from  these  premises  being  that,  if  such  be  the 
foundations,  they  nmst  ever  constitute  the  support  of  our 
institutions.  "When  completed,  according  to  the  ])l:in  of 
the  compiler,  the  "  Archives"  would  make  twenty  volumes, 
Mud  the  material  for  the  unpul)lished  eleven  volumes  is  all 
in  llie  possession  of  his  family,  awaiting  the  further  action 
of  the  government. 

And  this  brings  ns  to  the  consideration  of  INIr.  Force's 
library.  It  contained  about  llftv  thousand  titles,  and  was 
nn(piestionably  the  most  ^alu:^ble  collection  of  books  bear- 
ing upon  American  history  in  existence.     It  was  arranged 


104 


IIAniAZARD    PERSONALITIES. 


.1, 


in  seven  rooms  of  an  old,  dinuv  l>i-ick  Imildiiiii',  adioiuinff 
the  owner's  residence,  in  the  centrnl  portion  of  AVasliing- 
ton,  and  the  few  vohnnes  whieli  formed  its  niicU'US  were 
purelijised  more  than  fifty  years  ago.  Excepting  when 
visited  hy  the  friends  of  its  proprietor,  mendjers  of  Con- 
gress addicted  to  historical  pnrsuits,  or  literary  })ilgrims 
from  abroad,  its  silence  was  only  l)roken  ])y  the  pi'esence 
of  an  assortment  of  dogs  and  eats,  which  enjoyed  the  full 
range  of  the  establishment,  and  whose  characters  seemed  to 
have  been  influenced  bv  the  solenni  wisdom  of  the  tomes 
among  which  they  lived.  If  you  chanced  to  see  a  mouse 
gnawing  at  a  volume  three  hundred  years  old,  and  worth 
fifty  times  its  weight  in  g(^ld,  you  had  but  to  speak  to 
one  of  the  feline  creatures,  and  it  would  rush  to  the  rescue. 
If  you  happened  to  take  up  an  old  folio  covered  wdth  the 
dust  of  years,  and  make  a  little  too  much  fuss  in  trying  to 
blow  it  otf,  perhaps  one  of  the  dogs  would  rub  against 
your  knee,  as  if  to  sav,  "  Not  too  much  of  that,  sir.  We 
have  respect  in  this  place  for  eveiTthing  that  is  old." 
Nor  were  these  nooks  and  corners  without  guardians  which 
were  ])eyond  the  reach  of  the  cats  and  d(jgs.  In  ever}'^ 
direction,  almost,  might  be  found  happy  colonies  of 
spiders,  and 

"  Over  many  a  quaint  and  curious  volume  of  for<j:()ttou  lon^" 

did  they  spread  their  network  of  p/rotection  ;  and  they 
notunfrecpiently  frightened  ..  vay,  by  their  maiuLuivres,  the 
more  timid  hunters  of  knowledge  who  trespassed  on  their 
domain.  No  catalosjut^  of  this  vast  collection  was  ever 
attempted,  l)ut  the  precise  location  of  each  particular  vol- 
ume was  known  to  its  fortunate  i)roprietor.  who  was  always 
willinii:  to  assist  those  who  wished  tool  )ta  in  information.  :ind 
approached  him  in  a  proper  manner,  but  who  naturally  had 


T^ 


t 


PETER   ^ORCE. 


105 


•U 


'V 
1(3 

er 
)l- 

lul 


not  mnch  patience  with  those  wlio  visited  him  out  of  mere 
curiosity.  If  De  Mtiistre  could  make  a  delio;htful  hook 
about  u  '^  Jouruev  Round  his  Koom,"  what  a  book  could 
have  been  made  out  of  a  journey  throui>li  this  splcudid 
Iil)rary  !  In  one  obscure  corner,  for  exampU',  miiilit  be 
seen  no  less  than  fifty  volumes  of  origiual  mauusci'i[)ts, 
with  scores  upon  scores  of  intensely  interestin«ij  letters 
from  such  men  as  AVashinii'ton  and  the  other  patriots  of 
the  Revolution  ;  all  of  which  material  was  to  be  pul)lished 
for  the  first  time  in  the  future  volumes  of  the  ''Amer- 
ican Archives."  In  another  place  were  eleven  volumes 
devoted  to  the  correspondence  of  such  a  man  as  Paul 
Jones  ;  as  many  more  to  the  lettt'rs  of  John  Fitch,  of 
steamboat  memory  ;  and  hundreds  of  odd  volumes  devoted 

ft.      ' 

to  the  correspondence  of  other  men  who  have  made  their 
mark    in    the    history  of   their  country.     AVhile   standimj 

ft.  *.  CI7 

before  one  set  of  shelves,  filled  with  thin  volumes  of  every 
size  and  shape,  but  decked  out  in  substantial  bindings,  we 
might  hnve  taken  one  at  random,  and  find  it  to  be  "  Carvjal's 
Oration,"  containing  the  first  printed  notice  of  the  discov- 
ery of  America  by  Columbus  to  be  f<nn»d  in  any  language, 
and  ])rinted  in  1  1!)3.  If  one  h-'id  a  fancy  for  Arctic  litera- 
ture, one  might  have  found  there  everything  almost  that  was 
ever  published  in  regard  to  the  northern  ri'gions  ;  and  it  is 
worthy  of  note  that  there  was  not  a  man  in  the  country 
better  posted  tliMii  ]\Ir.  Force  in  this  particular  department 
of  knowledge,  nor  any  one  who,  as  a  scholar,  nMidercd 
greater  assistance  to  the  more  recent  navigators  in  the  far 
north.  If  there  are  any  who  doubt  the  statement  thiit 
one  hundred  news[)apers  have  beiMi  born  and  died  in  the 
city  of  Washington,  they  could  have  been  stitisfied  ])y  con- 

ft  t*  'ft,  ft. 

suiting  the  files  collected  in  this  library  :  and  there  they  came 

n  ft.      '  ft 

also  who  would  have  the  pleasure  of  looking  over  the  New 


IfiG 


HAIMlAZAUl)    l-KKSONAUTIES. 


? 


m 


:l  I' 


York  Mild  Pliihidclpliia  rikI  Boston  journals  publishtMl 
during  the  Ivcvolution.  Anions;  the  treasures  to  be  f<jund 
there  wms  the  icUnitical  copy  of  the  Federal  Constitution 
which  was  submitted  to  the  committee  on  the  revisal  of  its 
ianguamc.  It  was  printed  in  folio,  and  contains  all  tlie 
alterations  in  manuscrii)t  which  were  made  bv  the  very 
iil)le  and  distin<^uished  chiiirnuin  of  that  connnittee,  Wil- 
liam S.  Johnson,  of  Connecticut.  Another  treasure,  not 
Yet  alluded  to,  was  a  injinuscri[)t  volume  from  the  pen  (^f 
Washington,  containing  his  plan  for  Sullivan's  expedition, 
together  witii  numerous  queries  that  he  sent  to  his  corre- 
spondents, and  their  replies,  whei'eby  hv.  fully  posted  him- 
self in  regard  to  the  Indian  country.  And  directly  by  the 
side  of  this  volume  was  another  from  the  same  pen,  consist- 
ing of  a  private  diary,  not  a  syllal»le  of  which  has  eycr 
yet  ap[)eared  in  print.  Among  the  foreigners  who  trav- 
elled through  this  country  for  their  amusement  during  the 
devolution  was  one  Count  Memin,  from  France.  He  was 
a  good  engraver,  and  employed  liimself  by  taking  prolile 
l)()rtraits  of  all  such  persons  as  were  willing  to  remunerate 
him  for  his  trouble.  The  only  com[)lete  collection  of  these 
portraits  ever  nitide  was  made  by  the  artist  himself,  and 
this  was  one  (jf  the  attractions  of  Mr.  Force's  library.  They 
numbered  no  less  than  three  hundred  and  fifty,  are  admira- 
bly  executed,  and  among  them  are  many  of  the  fathers  of 
the  Republic.  The  black-lot tcr  volumes  in  this  library  num- 
bered several  hundred  ;  but  those  here  alluded  to  refer  to 
African  slavery  in  America.  Everything  calculated  to 
throw  light  on  the  subject  was  here  collected.  A  most 
important  feature  of  this  libi-ary  also  was  its  pamphlets 
rdatliKf  to  America.  The  titles  may  be  counted  by  the 
thousand,  and  there  were  gathered  together  extensive  col- 
lections made  by  such  men  as  William  Hazzard,  William 


PETER  FORCE. 


1G7 


Duane,  Joniithuu  Smith,  Oliver  Wolcott,  Israel  Thoru- 
dike,  John  IJailey,  I.  B.  Moore,  James  IMadisou,  as  well 
as  Mr.  Force  himself,  and  among  these  volumes  were  to 
be  found  many  highly  interesting  autographs. 

Another,  and  the  last  representative  item  to  be  men- 
tioned in  this  connection,  is  a  set  of  ten  volumes  of  hand- 
bills, printed  in  the  leading  citii'S  during  the  Revolution. 
In  those  days  newspapers  were  puhli^shed  not  more  fre- 
(piently  than  once  a  week,  and  these  printed  bills  lill  up 
tiie  gai)S  in  the  history  of  the  time,  and  are,  of  course, 
very  valuable.  In  looking  over  these  old  papers,  one  fact 
came  to  the  knowledge  of  the  writer,  which  is  of  si)eci;d 
interest  to  the  New-Yorkers  of  the  present  day.  AV'hen 
the  news  of  the  repeal  of  the  Stamp  Act  arrived  in  New 
York,  in  their  great  joy  the  people  dismantled  a  ship  and 
planted  her  largest  mnst  on  a  conspicuous  plot  of  ground, 
and  at  the  top  of  this  mast  they  allixed  a  wooden  Inist  of 
the  king  and  of  Pitt,  and  between  the  two  a  liberty  cap.  It 
was  not  \ouix  before  the  eOio-ies  of  the  two  En<»-lishmen  were 
taken  down,  while  the  emblem  of  the  inxldess  was  lef 
alone  in  its  glory.  And  this  was  the  origin  of  that  truly 
American  institution  —  the  liberty  pole. 

With  the  remark  that  the  works  of  art  to  be  found  in 
Mr.  Force's  library  were  quite  as  valuable  and  unique  in 
their  way  as  the  books  thiMuselves,  we  shall  conclude  our 
brief  account  witli  an  allusion  to  one  other  verv  decided 
novelty  associated  therewith.  The  l)ack  windows  of  tlu; 
lil)rary  building  all  openetl  u]:)OU  rather  an  extensive  yard, 
which  the  proprietor  cnlleil  jiis  ivildernoss.  This  spot  of 
ii:round  was  not  for  miinv  vears  touched  by  the  han<l  of 
improvement,  and  was  as  perfect  a  specimen  of  vegetation 
run  wild  as  could  anywhere  be  found.  Its  area  was  insig- 
nificant, but  a  walk  in  its  tangled  paths  could  not  fail  to 


J-^^^ 


168 


IIAPIIAZAlll)   rEUSONALITIES. 


recall  nil  those  fresh  emotion.s  which  we  are  wont  to  expe- 
rience in  the  lonely  woods.  Th(^ugli  the  roar  of  bnsiness 
tumbled  in  upon  it  from  every  qnarti-r,  it  was  just  sucli  a 
place  as  would  dciinht  an  imaginative  writer  lilve  Alphonse 
KaiT,  and  enable  him  to  write  a  new  ])ook  quite  as  charm- 
ing as  his  famous  ''Tour  Kound  mv  Garden."  With 
almost  a  religious  zeal  Mr.  Foi'ce  protected  liis  ''wilder- 
ness" from  sacrilegious  hands  ;  ;ind,  after  an  liour's  ram- 
ble among  the  treasures  of  the  liljrary,  enlivened  with  the 
many  agreeable  reminiscences  of  his  ex[)eriences  in  this 
intellectual  world  of  his  own  creation,  a  walk  with  him  in 
the  ''  wilderness  "  was  a  pleasure  not  soon  to  be  forgotten. 
In  1(S(»7  the  collection  of  books  and  manuscripts  ludoug- 
ing  to  Mr.  Force  was  purchased  by  the  government  for 
one  hundred  thousand  dollars  and  added  to  the  library  of 
Congress  ;  and  for  several  months  after  tlieir  removal,  as 
if  loath  to  part  with  his  old  familiar  volumes,  he  was  in  the 
ha])it  of  making  a  daily  visit  to  the  Capitol,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  offering  suggestions  as  to  their  arrangement  in 
their  new  home.  He  died  in  AVashington,  Jan.  28,  18()8, 
universally  lamented  as  ;i  sterling  patriot,  a  learned  scholar, 
and  one  of  the  best  and  purest  of  men. 


ri 


WILLIAM   S.  MOUNT. 

I  WOULD  submit  to  the  ])ublic  a  few  words  of  affection 
in  honor  of  this  gifted  and  distinguished  paintei'.  lie 
was  my  friehd  and  correspondent  for  more  than  twenty- 
five  years,  and  I  feel  that  I  have  a  right  to  join  his  ad- 
mii'ers  in  their  regretful  recollections.  He  was  the  last  of 
a  trio  of  brothers,  all  f)f  whom  were  painters  and  men  of 
ability,  all  identified  with  the    city  of   New   York,   and 


WILLIAM    S.    MOUNT. 


ir.o 


(' 


a 


hoiiOHMl  studiMits  jiiul  oUk'ors  of  tlio  National  Aoadomy  of 
J)e«i<iii-  TIk!  first,  Iloiiry  S.,  died  in  Jaiiuarv,  i-Sll  ;  the 
socond,  SlR'[)ard  A.,  in  So[)teinl)(M',  ISOT;  and  the  third, 
William  S.,  at  SctanUct,  Long  Island,  on  the  lidli  of 
the  iHH'scnt  month,  Novcnihcr,  l.S()<S.  Thcv  "were  the 
sons  of  a  sni)stantial  yeoman,  who  dietl  in  thi^  })rime 
of  life,  and  the  incidents  of  tlieir  lives  were  very  nnich 
alike,  —  in  tla-ir  exix'riences  as  yontlifnl  farmers,  their 
earlv  strnui'les  with  fortniu\  their  hiuh  character  us  men 
and  citizens,  and  in  their  sneeess  as  artists  in  the  city  of 
New  York'. 

William  S,  Monnt  was  born  in  Setanket,  Lon<i;  Island, 
Nov.  2(!,  IM()7,  and  his  edneation  was  chietly  obtained 
from  connnon  sciiools.  ^Vhill!  vet  a  mere  hov,  lu'  dabbled 
with  tlie  colors  of  a  si_iin-[)ainter  in  New  Yoik  for  his 
amnsement ;  bnt  havin<>:  stnml)le(l  into  thi;  i>allci"v  of  the 
old  American  Academy,  he  was  fascinated  by  the  i)ictnres 
of  IJenjamin  West  and  flohn  Trumbnll,  and  fired  with  the 
im[)nlse  to  become  a  painter.  His  Ib'st  picture  was  a 
l)ortrait  of  himself,  painted  in  his  twenty-lirst  year  ;  and  his 
first  composition,  i)ainted  in  the  year  following",  rei)re- 
sented  the  ''  l)aui;hter  of  Jairus  "  ;  and  by  the  time;  he 
litid  attained  his  twenty-fourth  year  he  had  i)i"oduced  a 
sulllcient  number  of  portraits  and  composition  pictures  to 
call  forth  from  Washington  AUston  the  commendation  that 
he  exhibited  great  power  of  expression,  had  a.  firm,  de- 
ci(U'(l  pencil,  and  that  if  he  would  ap[)ly  himself  to  the 
study  of  such  mi'n  as  Ostade  and  Jan  Steen,  nothing 
Avould  prevent  him  from  becoming  a  great  artist.  After 
profiting  by  models  from  the  antique,  and  the  few  good 
pictures  to  which  he  had  access,  as  well  as  by  the  friendly 
advice  of  John  Trumbull,  he  began  to  look  to  Nature  alone 
for  his  inspiration  ;  and  from  that  time  until  the  day  of  his 


1^ 

f 


170 


lIArJIAZAUI)    rKUSONALITIES. 


death  sho  was  his  only  uuidi!  and  toachor.  ITo  was  un- 
questionably  Olio  of  tlio  most  original  artists  of  his  day, 
and  exerted  a  li:ii»[>y  inlhienee  on  the  public  taste.  lie 
was  tlie  pioneer,  and  continued  the  uneciuaUed  master  in 
liis  special  department;  and  he  acconii)lis]»ed,  to  some 
extent,  for  American  country  life  what  David  Wilkie  did 
for  the  country  life  of  (ireat  Britain,  or  I)a\'id  Tcnii'rs  for 
his  fatherland.  In  a  few  instances,  the  mere  execution 
•  of  his  pictures  was  (juile  equal  to  that  of  the  famous 
Scotchman  ;  but  he  contented  himself  with  a  sin<ile 
humorous  tlu^Uiiht,  instead  of  touchin<j^  the  heart  with  the 
elevatini]^  sentiments  born  of  rustic  life.  Unlike  the 
Flemish  i)ainter,  he  was  never  vulgar,  and  we  can  only 
regret  that  he  did  not  i)ay  more  respect  to  the  higher  and 
better  feelings  of  our  nature.  By  many,  his  coloring  was 
considered  cold,  but  he  counted  upon  the  warming  and 
softening  intluences  of  time  ;  in  accurate  drawing,  Jiow- 
ever,  and  the  delineation  of  character,  he  was  enq)hati- 
callv  a  man  of  rare  powers.  lie  was  an  enthusiastic 
American  in  his  feelings,  and  a  lover  of  fun  and  humor, 
and  these  qualities  were  almost  invaria])ly  visible  in  his 
productions.  He  never  visited  Europe,  and  while  touch- 
ing on  this  subject  in  one  of  his  letters  to  me,  written  at  a 
time  when  he  was  withouta  rival,  lie  said  :  ''  I  have  always 
had  a  desire  to  do  something  before  I  went  abroad.  Oi-iui- 
nality  is  not  confined  to  one  place  or  country,  which  is 
very  consoling  to  us  Yankees.  The  late  Luman  l^eed,  of 
New  York,  desired  me  to  visit  Europe  at  his  expense  ; 
Jonathan  Sturges,  Esq.,  has  also  made  me  an  offer  of 
friendship  if  I  desired  to  visit  Europe  ;  and  the  firm  of 
Goupil,  Vibert  &  Co.  have  offered  to  su[)ply  me  with 
ample  funds  if  I  would  spend  one  year  in  Paris  and  i)aint 
them  four  pictures,     I  have   a  plenty   of  orders,   and  I 


<^^ 


WILI-IA^r    S.    MOUNT. 


171 


am  oontonted  to  remiiin  awhil ;  loiiijcr  ii»  our  own  creat 
coiinlrv." 

With  ro<2::ir(l  to  tlio  miiiibor  of  liim  productions  T  cannot 
speak  positively,  Itut  in  l.S.")().  iis  lie  told  inc  hinisclf,  llicy 
ntnnbcrcd  Hfty  couipositions,  with  au  ('(pud  numlicr  of 
portraits,  at  least.  lie  wms  fi'e(piently  paid  a  uuieli  lar^'r 
sum  for  his  ])i('tures  th;in  he  Imd  asked  ;  and  I  h:id  it  fi'oni 
his  own  lips  tluit  he  luid  spent  days  jind  weeks,  :md  even 
months,  without  ]):untinii;,  and  that  in  his  opinion  tlu're 
was  a  time  to  think  and  a  time  to  labor.  In  a  hrief  pai)er 
like  the  })resent  I  eannot  pretend  to  describe  the  pictures 
■which  have  given  him  an  enviable  fame,  but  the  followinji; 
list  will  convey  to  the  uninitiated  au  idea  of  his  stvle  and 
what  he  accomplished,  namely,  "Iluskinuj  Corn,"  ''('ider- 
makin«r," '^  HnJHin.ij  for  a  (ioose,"  '' The  Tou<.';h  Yarn," 
'•  Forrune-telling,"  '•  liaruaininiij  for  a  Horse,"  **(jlame- 
sters  Surprised  in  a  IJarn,"  '"Windinii-  I'j),"  "  Kini;in<; 
IIoj^'s,"  -'Artist's  Studio,"  "The  Last  Clam,"  "  Iloeinir 
Corn,"  "Rustic  Dance,"  "  Rabbit  Catchinjr,"  "  Farmers 
Nooning,"  "Turning  the  (irindstone,"  "The  Power  of 
Music,"  "  Dance  (»f  Haymakers,"  "Turning  the  Leaf," 
"Farmer  Shai-pening  his  Scythe,"  "The  Well  by  the 
Wayside,"  "Just  in  Tune."  and  "The  IJerry-Hunter." 
Of  these  i)ictures,  more  than  one  half  of  tliem  have  been 
engraved  ;  and  among  the  men  who  have  lionored  them- 
selves by  giving  the  artist  orders  were  Lumau  Keed,  Jon- 
athan Sturges,  James  Lenox,  Edward  C.  Carey,  Marshall 
O.  Roberts,  (iideou  Lee,  Charles  INI.  Leupp,  A.  INI.  Coz- 
zens,  and  the  art  publishers  of  Fai'is,  Goupil,  Vibert  &  Co. 
Of  AVilliam  INIount's  portraits  I  can  oidy  say  that  many 
of  them  were  of  a  high  order  of  merit,  and  of  distin- 
guished persons  ;  but  he  had  no  love  for  this  branch  of 
the  art,  and  he  seldom  painted  portraits  excepting  for  his 


111 


172 


nAriTAZAKD   nCRSONALITTES. 


i 
i 

||i     : 

i  !• 

■   r 

i 

.Hill 

.  ..^ »■■'-  U"* 


llll 


frk'iuls,  or  to  oblige  those  for  whom  he  liud  ii  Hpociiil 
rc'Ljunl.  In  thiHcoiuioction  I  have  two  or  thrt'o  juiecdoteH. 
His  first  c'onuniHsloii  in  this  (It'p.'irtinoiit  canui  from  ii  Loiil; 
Lshind  sliocmakcr,  wlio  _;avo  him  a  j)air  of  lirogaiis  for  a 
likeness  of  liimself,  size  of  life  and  i)!unted  in  oil.  On 
one  occasion  he  painted  the  portrait  of  a  distinu:nished 
iiieiiilterof  the  moneyed  nristocracy,  and  dnriniiitsexijcntion 
he  was  the  invited  j^iiest  of  the  \vonld-l»e  nohleman.  The 
pictnre  wnsa  decided  hit,  and  nniversally  admired.  When 
Monnt  was  id)ont  to  leave,  the  patron  called  him  into  his 
ohice  and  remarked,  in  a  rpiiet  way,  that  he  thon^ht  at 
least  fifty  dollars  on<»ht  to  be  deducted  from  the  oriyinal 
stipulated  price,  as  he  (the  artist)  had  been  treated  with 
elej^ant  hospitality.  To  this  insult  Mount  replied,  '•  I 
thank  you,  sir,  for  your  hospitality,  but,  as  J  have  ])ut 
one  price  for  my  portraits,  if  you  cannot  afford  to  pay  me 
what  was  ai2;reed  upon,  I  will  uiake  you  a  i)resent  of  the 
picture."  This  reprimand  cut  the  upstart  i)atr()n  to  the 
(piick,  and  he  at  once  drew  a  check  for  the  full  amount. 
To  iiive  an  idea  of  the  facility  with  Avhicli  INIount  some- 
times  painted,  I  may  mention  the  fact  that  in  uiy  own  col- 
lection of  pictures  is  an  admirable  ])()rtraitof  a  latly  which 
he  painted  in  two  hours,  and  with  a  palette  that  he  had 
iieyer  seen  until  the  moment  when  he  commenced  his  task. 
For  many  years  it  was  whispered  amonir  those  who  knew 
him  not  that  AVilliam  Mount  was  something  of  an  idler, 
and  did  not  make  the  best  use  of  his  talents.  The  charire 
was  most  unjust.  His  whole  life  was  a  continuous  battle 
against  the  encroachments  of  delicate  health  ;  and  while 
standing  guard,  for  uionths  at  a  time,  over  a  body  all  alive 
Avitli  (|uivering  nerves  and  harassed  with  the  pains  of  indi- 
gestion, it  was  quite  impossible  for  him  to  execute  the  pic- 
tures he  was  always  designing.     If  we  are  to  judge  the 


WILLIAM    S.    IVIOI  NT. 


173 


pnnhu'tioiirt  of  tlii'  jxH^t  Jiiid  ])Mliil('r  hy  tin;  yiinlstick,  lie 
insiy  litivo  Itocii  (IcliiKiucnt ;  but  if  wo  (Icik'ihI  upon  ideas 
luid  tlio  l)i'juity  of  llu'ir  ('\'[)iH'ssion,  tlu'ii  must  wo  }i;ive 
Mount  tlu!  credit  of  luivinu;  ju'coiuplislu'd  liis  full  share  of 
honors.  His  time  for  work  was  limited,  and  so,  also,  were 
his  means,  and  hence  the  ni'cessity  of  his  di'votin^  a  por- 
tion of  his  streuiith  to  the  di'udiicry  of  portrait  paintin;jj. 
Some  of  his  efforts  in  this  lim^  were  of  a  vei-y  liiu'li  order, 
cspeeially  thosti  of  l»isiio[)S  Ondi-rdonlv  and  Seahury,  hut 
there  was  somethinn'  almost  comical  in  the  demands  made 
upon  him  by  persons  l»ereaved  of  their  frii'uds,  to  dei)it;t 
the  dead  in  the  fresh  colors  of  life.  Such  appeals  were 
commonly  res[)ected,  and  it  verily  seemed  at  times  that  he 
deli<j;hti'd  in  thus  attemptiniif  the  api)arently  impossible. 
This  class  of  i)ortraits  did  not  a<ld  ^o  l;:s  fame,  i)erhai)S, 
but  they  were  always  successful,  -  •  2,rjitly  extench'd  his 
circle  of  devoted  friends.     "  true  that  he  did  not 

ptiint  as  many  composition  [)icture.-.  as  he  mi<>ht,  it  is  also 
true,  and  the  fact  is  u  tellinu;  tribute  to  his  ijjenius,  that  he 
has  been  m<M'e  popular  with  the  engravers  than  any  other 
American  of  the  same  exalted  rank  in  art.  Among  the 
publishers  of  our  earlier  gift  books  his  name  was  consid- 
ered :i  trum[)  cai'd,  and  the  very  best  engravers  on  steel 
were  employed  to  re[)roduce  his  coucei)tions  of  rural 
character.  As  time  progressed  his  pictures  were  sought 
out  and  reproducv'd  on  steel  in  the  best  i)ossible  manner, 
and  in  larger  styh's  for  cii'culation  among  ]»rint  collectors 
and  for  the  adornment  of  our  drawing-rooms;  and  when 
he  produced  his  original  and  iinsurpasse(l  delineations  of 
negro  charjicter,  the  noted  Paris  house  of  (;ou[)il  &  Co. 
reproduced  a  number  of  them  in  lithograph,  and  circu- 
lated them  very  extensively  in  Europe  and  this  country. 
Judging   his  pictures,   therefore,  by  their  popularity  and 


V- 

i 

i  * 

174 


HAPHAZARD   PERSONALTTIKS. 


ill 


.' 


quulity,  nitlitT  tluui  l)y  their  iiunihcrs,  it  would  appear  tliat 
th(;  buneiitcid  Mount  was  not  only  a  faithful  worker  but 
eminently  successful. 

AVhile  IMount  was  never  married,  he  was  a  lover  of  home 
an<l  domestic  life,  and  (le  found  nmeh  of  his  liap})iness  in 
lovinjj^  intercourse  witli  his  mother  and  sistei's.  Duriuij^ 
his  whole  iife,  the  i)aternal  mansion  at  Stony  lirook, 
Louii'  Island,  \v:is  his  dwelling-place.  It  was  his  affection 
for  thii!^  quiet  retreat  that  probably  iuHuenced  him  more 
than  anything  else  to  quit  New  York,  Avhere  he  once  at- 
tempted to  settle  ;  but  while  the  country  was  his  home,  he 
found  pleasure  in  frequently  visiting  the  great  city,  where 
he  had  many  devoted  friends,  and  where  he  came  in  direct 
contact  with  the  world  of  art.  He  was  a  creature  of  im- 
pulse, and  loved  to  wander  al)out  into  out-of-the-way 
places,  studying  character  and  amusing  himself  with  the 
novelties  of  the  town.  In  these  prowlings  he  always  had  a 
comp.mion  witi>  Avhom  he  could  talk  freely,  and  on  many 
days  and  nights  it  was  my  rare  privilege  to  be  that  com- 
panion.. On  one  occasion  that  I  remember,  after  spend- 
ing the  day  at  some  of  the  private  picture  gaUeries,  wlure 
lie  Avas  always  fieely  admi"^ed,  w^e  had  a  quiet  dinner  ;it 
Delmonico's,  ^vhare  he  sketched  a  funny  waiter;  at  seven 
o'clock  we  att'Mided  a  wedding  at  St.  Tliomas's  Church, 
where  he  took  ai  outline  t)f  the  bride's  sweet  face  ;  from 
eight  to  ten  we  h)unged  in  the  exhibition-room  of  the 
Natiomd  Academy  of  Design;  from  ten  to  twelve  avc  eu- 
j(>yed  the  nnisic  and  tiie  dancing  !it  a  large  and  fashion- 
able partly  ;  aiul  \v\>inKl  up  the  round  of  enterttiinment  by 
visiting  a  terrible  place,  within  a  stone's  throw  of  the 
City  Hall,  where  we  passed  ourselves  off  as  "  roughs," 
for  the  purpose  (^f  witnessing  in  safety  the  spectacle  of  a 
bear  baiting,  and  where  poor  humanity  could  be  studied 


WILLIAM    S.    MOUNT. 


175 


in  many  of  its  most  molanelioly  ]iliases.  Mount's  visits 
to  the  city,  excepting  when  professionally  engaged,  sel- 
dom lasted  more  than  two  or  three  days,  for  he  very  well 
knew  that  they  were  not  calcnlated  to  improve  his  health ; 
and  the  same  rnsty  old  sloop  which,  in  the  days  of  onr 
frolicking,  bronght  him  to  town  from  Stony  lirook,  was 
+he  one  to  take  him  })ack  again.  There  were  many  [)laces 
m  the  city  where  a  bed  and  a  seat  at  table  were  always 
at  his  service,  but  he  liked  to  be  free  and  indei)endent, 
and  usually  occujiied  lodgings  at  the  Trmmaiiy  Hall  Hotel, 
in  the  olden  times.  Accident  ori<»inally  took  him  there, 
but  as  it  was  the  grand  lieadquai'ters  of  tiie  Democracy, 
and  he  was  a  strong  Democrat  in  politics,  he  continue  1  a 
patron  of  that  hotel  to  tlie  last.  Although  nn  nncoi.- 
monly  practical  m;\n  in  his  ]ia])its  of  thought  ;ind  acting, 
he  never  tired  of  talking  about  art  nnd  nrtists,  jd)out 
music  and  nmsicinns,  and  about  the  characteristics  of  in- 
dividual men  :nid  the  beauties  of  inanimate  nature.  He 
looked  upon  m11  his  fellow-artists  with  estal)lished  reputa- 
tions as  his  superiors,  and  took  great  pleasure  in  fostering 
the  talents  of  the  young.  In  looking  at  a  picture  he 
always  pointed  out  and  talked  about  its  l)eauties,  leaving 
Jie  defects  to  themselves.  His  abilities  as  a  player  on  th(» 
violin  were  remarkable  ;  he  composed  much  fine  nuisic,  and 
a  piece  entitled  "The  l^abes  in  the  Wood,"  wliich  he  was 
wont  to  execute  on  his  violin  in  some  strange  way  with  an 
ordinary  door  key,  sehlom  failed  a  briuii'  a  tear  into  the 
eyes  of  his  listeners.  Thoui>h  not  a  relioious  man  by  pro- 
fession,  he  had  a  high  sense  of  honor,  and  venerated  the 
Bible  and  respected  its e\i)ounders,  ind  possessed  a  charity 
and  love  for  his  feUow-men  allied  to  that  which  liis  warm 
friend  Bryant  has  so  ehxpiently  attributed  to  Scjiiller. 
He  was  a  true  man,  a  full-blooded   American,   and   an 


176 


IIAPIIAZAIII)    I'KUSONALITIES. 


artist  whose  name  must  always  be  meutioiiud  with  honor 
in  tlie  annals  of  American  painting. 

Withont  t:ilvin<»-  time  jnst  now  to  recall  and  record  tlie 
many  traits  of  William  IMount's  l)eautifnl  character  as  a 
m;»n,  his  hahits  as  an  artist,  and  especially  his  novel  ad- 
ventures, modes  of  studyin<>'  nature,  and  rare  powers  a« 
a  player  on  the  violin,  1  have  thought  that  the  following* 
discomiected  extracts  from  his  many  letters  to  me  mioht 
be  read  with  pleasure.  1  give  them  merely  as  a  taste  of 
his  quality. 

Artistic  Hints.  —  "I  never  paint  on  a  picture  unless  I 
feel  in  the  right  spirit.  AVhen  1  go  into  a  painter's  studio, 
1  never  turn  his  canvases  round  without  a  permit  from  the 
artist.  I  always  pay  my  debts,  and  now  and  then  play  a 
tune  upon  the  violin.  I  am  not  fond,  like  some  artists, 
of  talking  about  my  dillicnlties.  I  try  to  be  ha})py  and 
wish  to  see  others  so  ;  and  I  think  more  of  health  than 
fame.  AVork  upon  your  pictures  up  to  the  last  hour  ))e- 
fore  sending  them  to  the  academy.  If  you  see  anything 
that  wants  correcting,  dash  it  out  and  paint  anew.  Again, 
keep  down  every  part  of  your  picture  except  that  [)art 
which  you  wish  to  interest.  Your  eye  will  govern  you. 
When  vour  iiicture  is  finished  and  von  wish  to  take  off  tlie 
effect  of  the  paint  and  at  tlie  same  time  give  a  sunny 
warmth,  go  over  the  whole  with  raw  sienna,  mixed  with 
drying  oil.  I  se  a  rag  in  putting  it  on.  You  can  use  blr;;, 
red.  I'  .  yellow  or  an}  other  compound  in  the  same  way. 
In  glazing,  if  you  wish  to  cool  your  warm  sliadows,  use 
blue  or  any  cool,  trans[)arent  color.  I  sometimes  pick  up 
very  tine  ochres  along  the  country  roads,  and  the  grape- 
vine, when  burnt  to  a  coal,  makes  the  beyt  black  T  know." 

Pointing  the  Dead.  — ^  I  have  just  finished  the  portrait 
of  a  voung  ladv,  from  a  sketch  taken  after  death.      I  out 


"W 


WILLIAM   S.    MOUNT. 


177 


II 


no- 
li, 

irt 
u. 

u; 
llV 
ilil 

-  1 

y- 

ISO 

up 
nit 

)Ut 


H 


a  buncli  of  flowers  in  her  band,  and  tlie  friends  were  per- 
fectly satisfietl.  The  mother  was  so  struck  with  the  Hke- 
ness  that  she  turned  aside  and  wept.  She  has  so  nnich 
confidence  in  mv  drawinij;,  that  she  wants  me  to  raise 
up  her  husband.  I  have  other  invitations  to  bring  to  light 
the  departed.  If  artists  were  called  upon  in  time,  it  would 
save  many  bitter  reflections.  I  am  pleased  to  know  there 
is  one  thing  that  can  soften  the  heart  of  a  miser,  and  that 
is  death.     He  makes  poets  and  painters  '-espected." 

A  Feio  Personal  Opinions.  —  "■  Elliot  nas  a  soul ;  there 
is  nothing  small  about  him.  I  admire  his  strength  aud 
color. 

"  With  regard  to  Edmonds,  his  artistic  talents  fairly 
light  up  AYall  Street. 

"  Vanderlvn  is  an  artist  of  oreat  talents  and  close  ob- 
servation,  and  the  Ne^\'  York  councils  ought  to  pay  him 
one  thousand  dollars,  instead  of  half  that  sum,  for  his 
portrait  of  General  Taylor.  AVhat  a  \nH)V  compliment 
to  the  author  of  '  Cains  INIarius  ' ! 

"  I  agree  with  you  that  Huntington  is  a  man  of  great 
abilities.  In  landscape  he  is  often  truly  delightful.  If 
he  wv  ''e  to  apply  himself  to  that  branch  he  might  excel 
even  Cole  and  Durand,  great  as  they  are. 

"  ('ole  hardW  ever  fails  to  win  my  admiration. 

"  I  am  sorrv  to  hear  of  Durand's  ill  healtii.     His  land- 

ft- 

scapes  afford  me  great  pleasure.     1  wish  him  health  and 
prosperity. 

"  Grey  is  a  queer  fellow,  but  has  bottom. 

"  Rannev  is  a  glorious  fellow. 

*/  cz? 

"  AUston  was  great,  but  WMiited  pluck.  He  ought 
never  to  have  been  frightened  from  Belshazzar's  Hall  l)y 
Martin. 

"  Bonfield  paints  a  capital  sea  view. 
12 


{i 


178 


IIAPIIAZATIT>   PERSONALITIES. 


lii 


M 


"  Morse  ought  never  to  have  given  up  pjiiuting. 

"  Kensett's  sketches  from  ntitiire  are  excpusite. 

*'  Casilear's  pictures  make  me  love  tlie  man. 

"  Page,  in  his  portraits,  is  .sometimes  magnificent,  ])Ut 
that  twilight  landscape  of  liis  was  a  disgrace. 

"  Weir  is  a  big  Indinn  in  art. 

"  Gignoux's  winter  scenes  cannot  be  beaten. 

"  Church  is  tremendous,  and  deserves  his  wonderful 
success. 

"  Leutze  is  a  perfect  war  horse  of  a  painter." 

JIis  Mother.  —  "  Yon  did  right  in  breaking  that  engnge- 
ment  to  yo  and  see  a  sick  mother.  Never  forget  vour 
parents,  and  there  will  be  notliiiig  to  darken  your  mind  in 
after  years.  1  never  slmll  foi'get  the  warm  ))ressure  of 
my  mother's  hand  when  she  was  dying.  It  was  the  last 
pressure  of  approbation." 

Concerning  a  Critic.  — "I  have  come  off  quite  as  well  as 
I  expected  from  under  the  quill  of  the  '  Broadway'  critic. 
It  is  singuhir  that  he  Avill  not  ndmit  that  I  can  })aint  a 
portrait.  It  may  be  that  the  truth  of  one  of  my  heads 
mav  have  brought  to  his  mind  recollections  of  mercantile 
memory.  He  seems  to  fancy  that  no  man  must  attempt 
to  paint  a  map  but  neighbor  Page,  nor  a  landscape,  be- 
cause neighbor  Page  Avas  never  gifted  in  that  line.  The 
fact  is,  he  is  the  mere  echo  of  his  favorite,  but  1  thank 
liiin  for  his  good  intentions." 

Citfj  and  Count ry  Life.  —  '"I  often  ask  myself  this 
question,  Am  [  to  stay  in  old  Suffolk  County  as  long  as 
the  children  of  Israel  did  in  the  wilderness?  I  liope  not 
without  visiting  the  citv  occasionally, — a  little  oftener 
than  I  have  done  for  the  last  twelve  months.  The  loneli- 
ness and  stillness  here  are  getting  to  Ix-  painful  to  me. 
The  reason  is,  I  stay  at  home  too  much.     I  must  visit  the 


WILLIAM   S.    MOFNT. 


170 


ladies  more  friMiuently,  —  go  to  apple-peelings  juid  (luilt- 
ings.  After  all,  the  eity  is  the  plaee  for  an  artist  lo  live 
in.  RevnoUls  considered  th;it  the  three  years  he  spent  in 
till'  conntry  were  so  nuich  time  lost." 

Ahmit  <i  Violin.  — "T  have  lately  made  a,  violin.  Iiriving 
concavity  on  the  back  as  well  as  the  sides.  The  toiu'  is 
powcrfnl  and  soft,  and  it  has  the  mellowness  of  the  ordi- 
nary violin  lifty  years  old.  It  is  an  American  fiddle  for 
lirothcr  Jonathan  to  play  npon.  I  havi;  sent  it  t<)  Wash- 
ington, and  wish  von  wonld  step  into  the  I^itent  Ollice  and 
see  if  it  has  arrived  ;  then  do  what  yon  can  to  secure  the 
patent." 

A  Wcbsfer  Portrait.  —  '^  A  friend  of  on  vvants  me  to 
paint  ti  fnll-length  ])ortrait  of  yonr  ,ate  and  nohle  friend, 
Mr.  Webster,  in  the  attitude  of  spedving.  1  now  regret 
that  I  did  not  acci'pt  the  invitati(/n  to  .Marshlield,  last 
snmnu'r.  1  never  saw  him  but  twice,  —  :it  the  Coopei"  Fes- 
tival, and  at  the  City  Hall  in  New  York;  but  I  remember 
him  distinctly.  Tell  me  if  he  exposed  liis  upper  or  lower 
teeth,  or  l)(>th,  while  talking  or  s[)enking  ;  also  whether 
they  were  large  oi-  small.  Yon  know  that  when  a  man 
speaks,  he  moves  his  under  jaw,  the  upper  remaining  (juite 
firm.  The  sanit^  when  he  laughs.  Let  me  knowMiis  luMght, 
the  color  of  his  skin,  eves,  hair,  dri'ss,  stvle  of  shoes  or 
l)oots,  his  manner  of  standing  while  making  a  s[)eech,  and 
whether  he  used  his  hands  and  arms  extensively.  When 
I  saw  him  in  the  conrt-i'oom  of  tlu'  City  Hall  he  ajjpeared 
uneasy,  and  was  walking  back  and  forth  like  a  mad  bull. 
S[)eaking  of  Webster  reminds  me  of  Washington.  How 
( omes  on  his  monument?  I  do  not  fancy  the  design.  It 
looks  like  a  hundred-leggi'd  bug  rfinning  away  with  a  i)il- 
lar,  oi'  a  bunch  of  candies  hanging  down,  or  a  whitew.-ish 
hiMish  standiuii'  readv  for  some  uiant  to  take  up  l;v  the 
handle  and  sweep  the  streets  of  the  metropolis." 


ISO 


ITAriTAZAllD    rEUSONALITTES. 


Darins:  several  of  the  later  years  of  his  life  William 
JMouiit  Avas  a  visioiiarv,  and  some  of  his  conceits  bor- 
dered closely  ui)on  S[)iritualism.  Hut  this  blij^ht  upon  his 
intellect  was  the  result,  undoubtedly,  of  his  long-contin- 
ued l)ad  health.  lie  is  now  a  disembodied  s[)irit,  and  it 
will  not  become  any  of  us,  who  are  still  irrovellinu'  here 
below,  to  sit  in  judgment  upon  his  weaknesses  and  motives. 


I  !     - 

I.    f! 


JAMES   BROOKS. 

TTk  was  my  friend,  and  T  sincerely  mourn  his  untimely 
depai'ture  from  among  the  living.  I  first  became  ac- 
([uaintcd  with  him  in  1<S17,  when  he  g;ive  me  a  posi- 
tion in  his  editorial  olMce,  as  an  assistant  writer  for  the 
Express.  One  of  my  duties,  under  his  direction,  was  lo 
look  afteri  the  interests  of  tlu;  i)oor  of  the  (;itv  ;  and  a 
series  of  descri[)tions  that  I  ])i"inted  al)out  life  in  the  old 
liowery  and  its  vicinity  caused  many  donations  to  l>e 
sent  to  Mr.  IJrooks  for  distribution  among  llu'  inmates  of 
that  house  of  woe,  and  subsecpiently  resulted  in  an  entire 
reformation  of  its  character.  Another  line  of  observ^ation 
that  I  prosecuted  was  among  the  medical  fraternity  ;  and 
as  it  was  my  privilege  to  know  all  the  doct<n"s  and  sur- 
geons (for  whom  I  have  alway.'i  had  a  fancy),  and  to 
chronicle  their  exploits,  I  succeeded  in  making  the  E.r- 
presii  their  pet  newsi)aper.  Hut  the  particular  dei)artment, 
which  T  worked  up  with  a  s])ecial  gusto,  was  that  of  the 
fine  arts.  I  chronicled  all  the  doings  of  the  artists  ;  and 
it  w^as  in  the  E.rprcss  and  at  that  time  that  the  custom 
was  commerced,  in  this  countrv,  of  criticising  and  minutely 
describing  the  pictures  of  the  artists,  ])ri()r  to  their  public 
exhibition.     The  credit  of  doing  this,  whether  deserved  or 


m 


H 


JAMES    IJKUOKS. 


181 


not,  was  jrivcu  to  me  by  Mr.  Brooks,  in  his  jouniiil  :uul 
in  i)rivato  letters. 

Earlv  in  the  year  1848,  iVFr.  Hrooks  called  me  to  his 
writino-table,  and  asked  me  if  I  had  ever  visited  Wash- 
ington. I  replied  that  I  had  not.  ''  Wonld  you  like  to 
go?  "  he  continued.  I  ans\vei'''(l,  *'  Yes."  ''  Wlien  ?  "  "  At 
once,"  1  said.  Whereupon  lir  ndded,  ••  You  may  go  to- 
night, if  you  please,  ruhlic  affairs  are  taking  an  interest- 
ing turn  down  tliere,  and  you  nuist  send  us  some  ijood 
letters ;  bui  one  thing  1  wish  you  to  remember,  don't 
believe  anvthing  that  you  hear,  and  not  more  than  oue  half 
that  you  see."  I  obeyed  orders,  wrote  a  series  of  "  Waifs 
from  Washington,"  which  1  concluded  witii  a  letter  of 
lesignation,  a;id  then  joined  the  Xdfiondl  IntcUitjonrei^ 
and  became  permanently  settled  in  the  District  of  Colum- 
bia. It  would  seem,  therefore,  that  ^Lr.  IJi-ooks  ^vas  the 
unconscious  instrument  in  shaping  my  destiny  at  the  most 
impt)rtant  period  of  my  humble  life.  Is  it  not  therefore 
natural  that,  during  all  the  following  years,  I  should  have 
cherished  a  warm  regard  for  my  distiugnished  friend? 

Aly  i)ersonal  intercourse  with  Mr.  IJrooks.  taken  in  con- 
nection with  his  [)ublic  career,  has  given  me  an  exalted 
opinion  of  his  character.  He  was  a  nnm  of  culture,  and 
iu  all  his  intercourse  with  his  fellow-men,  whether  of  high 
or  low  degree,  deported  himself  like  a  true  gentleman  ;  as 
a  politician,  he  cherished  an  earnest  desire  to  promote  the 
broadest  liberty  for  all  men  ;  as  a  journalist,  his  career 
was  long,  brilliant,  and  successful ;  and  as  a  member  of 
Congress,  he  served  his  constifiients  with  tidelity,  took  au 
active  part  in  general  legislation,  and  was  the  leader  or 
representative  man  of  his  party.  He  also  used  the  pen 
with  remarkable  facility  and  power,  and  was  an  eloquent 
.speaker.    He  was  iu  his  tastes  very  much  of  a  cosmopolite, 


^r 


182 


IIAI'IIAZAUD   I'liUSOKALlTIKS. 


{111(1  Ills  ('X[)('ri('ii('(>s  MS  :i  tnivoller  were  soiiiowliat  reinark- 
nblo.  AftiT  s('('iii<!;  lu'iiriv  uvervtirmu'  in  his  own  (M)niitrv 
tli:»t  WHS  worth  si'('In<)|;,  ho  tnivolk'd  tlirough  Kuioix'  with  :i 
kiiMpsMck,  uiid  ;>t  :i  sul>s('([ueiit  period  Jio  visih'd  K<i'vpt 
and  the  Holy  Land,  and  less  than  ten  years  before  his 
death  made  tlie  circuit  of  the  ^lohe  for  tlie  heiU'Cit  of  ]\h\ 
health  ;  and  iiis  (lescri[)tive  writin<>s.  if  liroiiuht  together 
and  re[)iil)lislied  as  a  wliole,  would  prohaljly  prove  that  he 
was  not  surpassed  by  any  other  writer  in  that  particular 
department  of  literature.  Upon  his  whole  career  as  a 
public  man  there  rested  ])ut  one  siii^li!  shadow,  and  that, 
in  my  own  o[)i:tion,  was  iiothinn'  but  the  natural  resnlt  of 
assoclatin*^  with  the  demagogues  of  this  notoriously  cor- 
rupt age  ;  and  it  must  ever  be  a  source  of  regret,  that  the 
one  assault  that  was  made  u[)on  his  integrity  was  made 
when  he  was  in  reality  a  dying  man  ;  but  though  his  chief 
desire  for  prolonged  life — so  that  he  might  answer  his 
accusers  —  w;is  not  granted,  peace  and  hope  were  at  his 
bedside  at  the  linal  hour. 

In  looking  over  the  letters  which  I  have  received  from 
Mr.  lirooks,  I  lind  only  one,  and  the  copy  of  one  ad- 
dressi'd  to  the  trustees  of  the  Corcoran  Art  (Jallerv,  which 
I  desire  to  produce  in  this  place  ;  the  first  exhibits  him  as 
a  friend,  and  the  second  simply  gives  me  credit  for  inau- 
<>'uratin<»;  a  stvle  of  art  criticism  in  Xew  York,  which  is 
associated  with  many  pleasant  recollections. 

Aliiany,  IVrarch  '2H,  1848. 

3f)/  dear  Sir^  —  A'oui"  letter  reached  ine  last  evening, 
and  I  have  but  time  to  write  a  word. 

I  cannot  make  the  contract  for  the  future  which  you 
wish  ;  because  I  contemplate  some  changes  in  business,  the 
nature  and  order  of  whicdi  1  do  not  vet  kuow,  but  I  see 


l-i 


JAMES    j;iJ()()KS. 


iUli 


no  roMson  — unless  some  extrnonlinnrv  cirouinstniiccs  pre- 
vent—tlint  would  f(>rl)i,l  tlu.  MiTnuyviueut  we  Imd  prior 
to  your  (lei)jirtur('  for  WMsliiuuton.  I  mucli  vjilue  your 
industry,  activity,  and  p,'culi:ir  tastes,  and  slioidd  always 
be  glad  to  avail  myself  of  them. 

I  thank  you  warmly  for  the  interest  you  have  taken  in 
the  Express,  and  can  assure  you  I  am  not  unmindful  of 
your  services. 

Yours  truly, 

James  Brooks. 

TA  AsinxoTox,  D.  c.,  Juno  20,  1870. 

Gentlemen,  — ChiivhH  Lanmau,  Esq.,  was  an  art  writer 
for  the  New  York  Express  more  than  twenty  years  ao-o, 
and  was  the  first  writer  and  critic  who,  +hrounh  the  Nmv 
York  Express,  etc.,  made  that  a  dei)artment  and  science. 
lie  showed  himself  in  all  these  articles  to  ])e  both  an 
artist  and  critic,  and  in  these  won  much  rei)utation. 

I  should  think  him  admirably  iitted  to  preside  over  your 
art  gallej:'y. 

Yours  respectfully, 

rp^  ii    rr     ,      ^  .  James  Brooks. 

lo  the  Trustees  Corcoran  Art  Oallery, 

Washington,  Tj,  C. 

Mr.  Brooks  was  born  in  Portland,  Mc.,  in  I.SIO  ;  in  the 
eleventh  year  of  his  age  became  a  clei-k  in  a  store  ;  was  a 
school-teacher  when  sixteen  :  and  at  tlu^  age  of  twenty- 
one  graduated  at  AVaterville  College.  He  Served  in  the 
Legislatures  of  Maine  and  New  York,  and  was  a  repi-esent- 
ative  in  Congjvss  from  the  latter  State.  Established  the 
New  York  Exj>ress  in  l.S.SC.  ;  and  he  died  at  Washington  in 
April,  187-'].  A  blessing  on  the  memory  of  mv  departed 
friend. 


181 


llA I'llAZAUI)    riCUSUNA LITIE8. 


LEWIS   CASS. 

It  wns  about  tlie  year  1H28  that  I  first  saw  General 
Csiss  ill  Detroit;  and  the  hist  time  was  at  liis  lioiise  in 
Washington,  In  1800,  just  Itet'ore  he  resigned  the  ollioe  of 
Secretiii'V  of  State.  In  that  etirlv  time,  as  it  was  to  tlie 
end,  liis  home  was  on  the  Detroit  River,  just  without  tlie 
limi  s  of  the  city  of  Detroit,  and  adjoining  tlie  estati;  of 
AVilliMiii  Woodhridge.  I  Imd  l)een  sent  np  from  the  river 
i\Misin  to  ninive  a  visit  jit  tlie  Wood))ridges',  iuid  wjis  tlius 
en:ihU'd,  during  my  visit,  and  wliile  phiyiiig  willi  the  sons 
of  the  two  l)ig  men,  to  see  .'iiid  know  the  "'  gretit  gov- 
ernor." He  h:id  for  nuinv  vetirs  iK'fore  l>een  a  wtirm, 
jxTsoiinl  friend  of  my  fnthcr.  :nid  so  continued  niitil  liis 
own  death.  Like  tiint  of  JMi'.  \Vood))ridge,  liis  home  was 
suii'ounded  with  every  comfort,  and  many  of  the  ele- 
gances of  life,  hut  they  Avere  as  uiililve  in  charactei'  as 
Avere  the  modes  of  thinking  and  the  htibits  of  the  two  Jiien. 
In  the  house  of  the  governor,  the  eye  was  attracted  by 
numerous  things  connected  with  the  Indians  and  the  wil- 
derness ;  but  in  the  house  of  the  lawyer,  the  various  evi- 
dences of  literary  culture  ])redominated.  The  former  was 
militai-y,  ollicial,  and  political ;  the  latter,  peaceful,  legal, 
and  scholarly. 

As  one  or  two  elal)orate  lives  of  General  Cass  have  been 
pu])lislied,  it  cannot  be  expected  that  I  should  give  any 
freshness  to  an  outline  sketch  of  his  career;  but  as  he 
was  the  friend  of  three  generations  of  my  family,  and  is 
lovingly  remembered  bv  the  survivors.  1  must  he  indulged 
to  tlui  following  extent:  lie  was  born  in  Kxeter,  N  II., 
Oct.  9,  1782.  Having  received  a  limited  education  in  his 
native  place,  at  the  early  age  of  seventeen  he  crossed  the 


LEWIS  CASS. 


1H5 


Allciiliiiiiv  ]\I()init:iins  on  fool,  to  seok  a  lioiiu*  in  the 
(ii'cat  West,  then  jiu  almost  unoxplorocl  wildoniesH. 
lie  sc'ttU'd  !it  ^liiric'ttii,  ().,  sttidicd  1m\v,  and  was  suct'oss- 
ful.  Kli'ctcd  at  twentv-tive  to  tlu'  lii'iiislaturo  of  Ohio,  lie 
ori^iiKitcd  the  l)ill  whicli  aiTosti'd  the  pi-occi'diii^s  of  Aiiron 
Burr,  Mild,  ns  stated  by  rrcsidciit  JelTersoii,  was  the  first 
l)low  <i;iven  to  what  is  known  as  Uurr's  consijiracv.  In  1S()7 
he  was  ai)[)oint('d  hy  Mr.  .lefferson  marshal  of  tiie  State, 
and  lu'hl  the;  ollice  till  the  latter  part  of  l-Sll,  when  lie 
volunteered  to  repel  Indian  ajiuressions  on  the  frontier. 
lie  was  eleeted  eohniel  of  the  Tliird  h'eniment  of  Ohio 
A'oliinteers,  and  entei'ed  the  militarv  service  of  the  I'nited 
States  at  liie  eomnu'iicement  of  the  War  of  \^\'2.  llavini:; 
by  a  dillicult  .iiareh  readied  Detroit,  he  uriicd  the  immedi- 
ate invasion  of  Canada,  and  was  the  author  of  tlie  proela- 
niation  of  tliat  event,  lie  was  tiie  first  to  land  in  arms  on 
the  enemy's  shore,  and,  with  a  small  detachment  of  trooi)s, 
foui^lit  and  won  the  first  battle,  that  of  tiie  TiiioiutM  .  At 
the  subsecpieiit  capitulation  of  Detroit  he  was  absent  on 
important  service,  and  reiiretted  that  his  command  and 
iiims»'lf  liad  been  included  in  tliat  ca[)itiilati()n.  Liberated 
on  parole,  he  repaired  to  the  seat  of  government  t<j  report 
the  causes  of  the  disaster  and  the  failure  of  the  campaign. 
He  was  immediately  ap[)ointed  a  colonel  in  the  regular 
army,  and  noon  after  promoted  to  the  rank  of  brigadier- 
general,  having  in  the  mean  time  been  elected  major-general 
of  the  Ohio  volunteers.  On  l)eing  exchanged  and  released 
from  parole,  lie  again  repaired  to  the  frontier,  and  joined 
the  army  for  the  recoverv  of  Michiii'an.  Ueiim-  at  that 
time  without  a  command, he  si'i'ved  and  distinguishiHl  liiin- 
self  as  a  volunteer  aide-de-camj)  to  Oeneral  Harrison  at 
the  battle  of  the  Thames.  lie  was  ai)pointed  by  President 
Madison,  iii  October,  18113,  governor  of  ^Michigan.     His 


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Sciences 
Corporation 


73  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N  Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


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HAPHAZARD   PERSON AIJTIES. 


4 


position  C()iii])ino(l,  witli  tlio  ordinary  dutios*  of  chief  maj^is- 
trate  of  a  civilized  coniininiity,  the  immediate  mana<2;c- 
meut  and  control,  as  superintendent,  of  the  relations  with 
the  numerous  and  powerful  Indian  tribes  in  that  region  of 
country.  lie  conducted  with  success  the  affairs  of  the 
Territory  under  end)arrassini>;  circumstances.  Under  his 
sway  peace  was  preserved  between  the  whites  and  the 
treacherous  aiid  disaffected  Indians,  law  and  order  estab- 
lished, and  the  Territory  rapidly  advanced  in  population, 
resources,  and  prosperity.  He  held  this  position  till  July, 
1831,  when  he  was,  b}'  I'resident  Jackson,  made  Secretary 
of  War.  In  the  latter  pai't  of  188G,  President  Jackson 
appointed  him  minister  to  France,  where  he  remained 
until  1842,  when  he  requested  his  recall,  tiud  returned  to 
this  country.  In  January,  1845,  he  was  elected  to  the 
Senate  of  the  l/^nited  States  ;  which  p'uice  he  resigned  on 
his  nomination,  in  INIay,  1848,  as  a  candidate  for  the  I*res- 
idency  by  the  political  party  to  which  he  belonged.  After  the 
elc'^-ion  of  his  oi)ponent  (General  Taylor)  to  that  oflice, 
the  Legislature  of  his  Stat(\  in  1849,  re-elected  him  to  the 
Senate  for  the  unexpired  portion  of  his  original  term  of 
six  years.  AVlien  JNIr.  Buchanan  ])ecame  President,  he  in- 
vited General  Cass  to  the  head  of  the  Department  of 
State,  which  position  he  resigned  in  December,  1800.  He 
devoted  some  attention  to  literary  pursuits,  and  his  writ- 
ings, speeches,  and  sttite  papers  would  make  several  vol- 
umes ;  among  which  is  one  entitled  "France;  its  King, 
Court,  and  Government,"  published  in  1840.  He  died  in 
Detroit,  June  17,  180(5,  and  will  long  l)e  remembered  as  the 
most  eminent  and  successful  statesman  of  Michigan. 

As  it  is  my  intention,  in  all  my  notices  of  the  public 
men  I  have  known,  to  give  the  reader  some  particulars 
which  could  not  be  given  by  another,  I  now  proceed  to 


l!l 


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LKWIS   CASS. 


]<S7 


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submit  what  little  I  hiive  in  regard  to  General  Cass  ;  and, 
as  on  many  other  occasions,  I  sliall  draw  npou'the  private 
correspondence  whic^h  happens  to  l)e  in  my  possession. 

When  my  grandfather,  James  J^anman,  was  in  the 
United  States  Senate,  it  was  his  pleasure,  as  well  as  priv- 
ilege, to  do  all  in  his  power  to  promote  the  ]_  c  ^^  "ity  of 
the  Northwest,  and  especially  of  tlie  Territory  of  jMiCijlgan. 
From  the  numerous  letters  wliich  passed  between  himself 
and  the  governor,  I  htive  selected  one,  written  by  the  latter 
to  the  former,  which,  if  nothing  more,  will  give  tlie  reader 
an  idea  of  the  writer's  graceful  and  interesting  stvle.  It  is 
V  dated  Detroit,  March  21,  lrS-21 .  and  is  as  follows  :  — 

"  I  am  hni)py  that  a  favorable  op[)()rtunity  has  occurred 
for  addressing  you.  I  have  intended  to  do  it  for  some 
time.  Not  that  I  had  anything  worthy  of  connnunication, 
but  that  I  was  anxious  to  express  to  you  my  gi'atitude  for 
the  favorable  consideration  which  3'ou  have  given  to  every 
question  pending  before  Congress  which  affected  our 
local  interest.  I  had  the  pleasure  of  learning  from  Judge 
Kuggles  (r>.)i  '^^  fti^V"  days  since,  that  you  intended  to  visit 
this  countrv  during  the  course  of  the  ensuing  season,  and 
to  attend  the  treaty  about  to  be  held  with  the  Indians.  I 
Rinc<3rely  hoj^e  that  you  will  suffer  nothing  to  divert  you 
from  this  resolution.  Certainly  an  accpiaintance  with 
Indians  and  Indian  affairs  nmst  be  a  great  desideratum 
in  the  national  legislature.  It  can  only  be  acquired  by 
personal  observation,  and  by  a  free  intercourse  with  tliem. 
I  have  no  hesitation  in  saying  tliat  a  few  days  spent 
among  them  will  give  more  information  respecting  tlieir 
character,  situation,  wants,  and  feelings,  than  can  be 
acquired  during  a  long  life  in  any  other  manner. 

'"  Jnthe  multitudeof  (piestions  upon  the  subjectof  Indian 
affairs,  which  require  the   decision  of  Congress,  practical 


188 


HAPHAZARD  PETlSONALITiES. 


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knowledge  must  be  very  important  to  the  possessor,  and 
hi_i2;hly  useful  to  the  body  of  which  he  inuy  be  a  meml)er. 
The  conti'tiriety  of  opniions  whidi  have  appeared  upon 
this  topic,  and  tlie  crude  specuhitions  whieli  have  met  the 
public  eye,  conclusively  prove  tliat  practical  information 
is  not  brought  to  a  consideration  of  tlie  subject. 

"From  Buffalo  to  this  place,  a  passage  in  the  steamboat 
is  ple.'i.sant  and  expeditious.  From  here,  to  the  place  of 
holding  the  treaty,  I  will  procure,  with  pleasure,  the  neces- 
sary conversance,  and  will  take  charge  of  everything 
which  rclab'S  to  our  personal  convenience.  It  is  not  prob- 
able that  the  treaty  will  continue  liiore  than  eiuht  or  ten 
days  ;  and  I  may  venture  to  assure  you  that  our  jaunt  will 
be  perfectly  pleasant.  I  do  not  know  that  there  are  any 
other  lands  in  this  quarter  which  it  can  be  important  for 
the  government  to  procure,  and  consecpiently  this  is  the 
last  oi)portunicy  of  the  kind  which  can  occur  near  here. 
The  treaty  will  be  held  in  July,  August,  or  September  ; 
but  the  particular  time  will  depend,  in  a  great  measure, 
upon  the  convenience  of  yourself,  and  of  the  other  gentle- 
men of  the  Senate,  who  propose  to  attend.  If  yon  have 
any  wish  upon  the  subject,  be  good  enough  to  connnuni- 
cate  it  to  me.  You  will  of  course  come  to  mv  house,  and 
remain  with  me  until  our  dei)arture. 

"  1  have  not  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  3^our  son  (C.  J. 
Lanman)  since  I  received  Judge  Ruggles's  letter ;  but  1 
shall  re(piest  him  to  accompany  us,  and  I  have  no  donbt 
but  he  will  do  so.  As  soon  as  the  time  is  definitely  settled, 
1  shall  write  to  you  again,  in  order  that  you  may  arrive  at 
lUiffalo  in  time  to  take  passage  in  the  steamboat  without 
being  delayed.  With  much  respect,  I  have  the  honor  to 
be,  "Your  obedient  servant, 

"  Lewis  Cass." 


LEWIS  CASS. 


189 


The  treaty  licre  alluded  to  was  made  at  Chicago,  and 
was  one  of  about  tweuty  which  were  negotiated  by  (icu- 
cral  Cass.  Tlie  kind  invitation  which  he  extended  in  tha 
al)ove  letter  could  not  be  accepted,  but  several  of  like 
cliaracter  were  accepted  by  my  father,  and  often  described 
to  strangers  at  his  fireside.  Tlie  jurisdiction  of  General 
Cass,  while  he  was  governor,  extended  over  thirteen  tril)es 
of  Indians,  numbering  in  all  more  than  fortv  thousand 
souls  ;  and  few  Americans  have  done  as  much  as  he  did 
to  enrich  the  government  at  the  expense  of  the  poor  al>ori- 
gines  ;  but,  to  the  extent  of  liis  ability,  he  always  treated 
them  with  kindness.  After  an  experience  of  seven  or 
cigiit  years  in  dealing  with  them,  his  views  in  regard  to 
tlie  policy  wliich  should  be  adopted  by  the  United  States 
were  fully  matured,  and  then  it  was  that  lie  addressed  a 
letter  to  my  father  on  tlie  subject;  it  is  long,  but  histori- 
cally V!vlual)le,  was  written  from  Detroit,  Jan.  1!),  1820, 
and  is  as  follows  :  — 

DETiiOiT,  Jan.  10, 1820. 
C.  J.  Laxman,  Esq. 

M]j  dear  l^ir^  —  Various  projects  have  ])e('u  submitted 
to  Congress,  within  a  few  years,  for  the  reguhition  of  Indian 
affairs.  But  such  objections  appear  to  have  existed  against 
all  of  them  as  to  prevent  their  ado[)tion.  This  ought  not 
to  exeite  surprise,  if  we  consider  the  nature  of  the  subject 
and  the  persons  who  are  to  be  affected  bv  these  reaula- 
tions. 

Our  intercourse,  political  and  commercial,  witli  the  In- 
dians can  only  be  knov,n  by  tliose  who  are  i)i-actically 
acquainted  with  it.  It  is  a  business  of  minute  and  exten- 
sive detail,  involving  an  intimate  knowledge  of  the  In- 
dians, their  habits,  customs,  wants,  and  feelings.  Changes 
under  such  circumstances  are  dangerous  ;  it  is  <lilli('ult  to 


100 


IIA PIIAZ ATID    I'ERSONAIJTIES. 


foresee  the  effect  tliey  will  produce.  Without  auimuni- 
tion  and  clothing,  the  Indians  nuist  perish.  They  are 
wholly  dependent  for  their  existence  upon  the  supplies 
they  procure  from  us. 

Jf  the  trade  with  them  he  seriously  affected,  these  sup- 
plies mny  be  withheld,  and  incalculMhle  mischief  ensue. 
It  is  therefore  best  that  Congress  should  proceed  in  the 
investiuation  of  this  subject  slowly  and  cautiously,  and 
should  regard  attentively  t)ie  consequeucies  of  every  prop- 
osition. 

It  is  doul)tful  however  whether  any  change,  which  may 
be  made  in  the  laws  regulating  trade  and  intercourse  with 
the  Indians,  will  improve  the  system.  The  present  act 
has  existed  nearly  twenty  years,  and  it  is  itself  merely  the 
modification  of  a  law  whicli  had  existed  nearly  as  long. 
No  practical  evil  has  attended  its  operation  which  re- 
quires any  change  in  the  law  itself.  The  whole  subject  of 
the  trade  is  left  open  to  executive  regilation.  Licenses 
are  to  be  granted,  in  such  manner  and  upon  such  terms  as 
the  President  may  direct.  If  it  be  thought  practicable  to 
interdict  the  introduction  of  whiskey  into  the  Indian  coun- 
try, to  confine  the  trade  to  one  place,  or  to  enfcrce  any 
other  regulation  which  may  be  deemed  salutarv,  the  Presi- 
dent  has  only,  by  the  existing  law,  so  to  direct ;  and  the  de- 
tails of  the  subject  had  better  l)e  thus  left  than  introduced 
into  the  law  itself.  A  mode  of  trade  whicli  may  suit  one 
place  or  tril)e  may  not  suit  another;  and  regulations 
which  are  thought  beneficial  to-day  may  to-morrow  be 
found  injui-ious.  An  attentive  examination  of  the  pres- 
ent law  will  lead  to  the  conclusion  that  it  has  been  cau- 
tiously and  wisely  drawn,  and  that  it  contains  provisions 
amply  sufficient  to  attain  all  practical  and  useful  objects. 

It  has  however  been  proposed  that  a  superiiitendent  of 


T.i<:WIS   CASS. 


101 


Indhin  affairs  should  be  appoiiitod  at  AVashington,  and  tliat 
all  licenses  f <  r  Indian  trade  should  ])e  granted  at  that  plaee. 

Such  an  oflicer  in  the  present  state  of  things  can  scarcely 
be  deemed  necessary.  Our  military  establishment  is 
greatly  reduced,  and  the  duties  of  the  head  of  the  depart- 
ment are  nnich  less  multifarious  tluui  they  were.  'Die 
appropriation  for  Indian  id'fnirs  was  al)out  one  hundred 
thousand  dollars  for  the  Inst  vear,  and  tlie  accounts  of  the 
disbursing  oflicers  for  the  expenditure  of  this  sum  are  settled 
in  the  second  auditor's  oMice.  There  is  no  conjplaint  tlint 
the  business  in  that  odice  is  too  great  to  be  executed  there, 
everything  is  done  and  promptly  done  ;  nor  is  there  any 
application  for  nn  increase  of  menus.  By  the  constitu- 
tion of  the  Trensurv,  every  account  nuist  be  first  ex- 
amined  by  one  of  the  auditors  and  finnllv  pnssed  l)v  one 
of  the  comptrollers  ;  ns  therefore  every  voucher  must  tnke 
the  same  course,  >vhich  is  now  given  to  it,  there  cnn  Ix;  no 
necessity  for  the  creation  of  an  ollice  in  wiiich  some  new 
incipient  proceeding  sIjmU  take  place.  The  checks  are 
now  amply  suilicient,  and  if  they  are  not,  the  same  ol)jec- 
tions  will  npply  to  all  other  accounts,  and  there  will  be 
some  reasons  for  institutino-  another  ])rnnch  of  the  treaty 
department  for  their  examination.  One  clerk  is  charged 
with  the  ey.ecntion  of  this  duty  in  the  auditor's  otlice,  and 
it  is  readily  and  correctly  done. 

If  then  there  exists  no  necessity  for  the  creation  of 
such  an  office,  in  order  to  insure  a  prompt  and  accurate 
adjustment  of  the  accounts,  it  will  be  difficult  to  determine 
wlmt  other  duties  would  justify  such  a  measure.  The 
Secretary  of  War  is  the  head  of  the  depnrtment,  and  con- 
sequently every  measure  would  be  submitted  for  his  de- 
cision. What  would  ])e  gained  by  the  creation  of  an 
office,  with  its  additional  train  of  expense,  to  have  merely 


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102 


IIAPTIAZARD   fERSONAUTIES. 


4 


!j; 


as  au  intermediiite  agent  between  the  Secretary  and  those 
wlio  ai'c  to  execute  his  decisions?  Would  it  not  be  much 
more  proper  to  create  an  independent  oflicer  for  the  Land 
Bounty  Olllce,  for  the  Pension  OHice,  and  for  every  branch 
of  duty  wliich  devolves  upon  the  War  Department.  The 
duty  of  all  these  sections  of  the  department  are  nuich 
<j;reater  than  those  which  relate  to  Indian  affairs,  and  in 
fact,  one  would  sui)pose  that  the  correspondence  on  this 
subject  "was  comparatively  small  and  unimi)ortant. 

The  details  of  the  business  are  and  must  be  managed 
by  the  agents  in  the  Indian  country  ;  and  it  is  diflicult  to 
conceive  that  any  important  incident  can  often  occur  re- 
(piiring  a  reference  to  the  War  Department ;  claims  for 
injuries  by  our  citizens  and  by  the  Indians  nmst  form 
the  hirger  class  of  cases,  and  these  are  transmitted  to  the 
auditor ;  surely  the  duty  of  a  su[)erintendent  could  not  oc- 
cupy one  month  in  the  year,  except  in  what  relates  to 
business  merely  clerical ;  and  this,  under  any  circumstan- 
ces,  -would  be  executed  by  very  subordinate  otiicers. 
When  it  is  found  that  the  duties  of  his  department  press 
too  heavily  upon  the  very  able  and  intelligent  officer  at  the 
head  of  it,  it  will  be  time  to  institute  an  inquiry  into  the 
expediency  of  establishing  the  office  in  question. 

It  has  also  been  proposed  that  all  licenses  for  the 
Indian  trade  should  be  granted  at  Washington,  lint  how 
is  it  possible  for  the  traders  to  make  their  application  at 
that  place?  and,  if  they  could,  what  practical  advantages 
would  result  from  it,  —  would  it  serve  to  prevent  abuses  in 
the  first  instance,  or  to  correct  or  punish  them  afterwards? 
The  character,  conduct,  and  pretensions  of  the  applicants 
cannot  be  known  at  Washington,  and  any  attempt  to  dis- 
criminate between  them  would  demuierate  into  an  idle 
ceremony,  or  would   i-esult  in   personal   favoritism  ;    antl 


u 


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#  if' 


LEWIS   CASS. 


10.1 


e(iu;illy  dillicult  would  it  he  to  invostigiite  at  AViisliiii<^- 
ton  tlie  conduct  of  the  traders  iu  the  Indinii  country. 
IJreaches  of  the  law,  or  of  the  bonds  which  may  be  given, 
can  be  known  only  where  the  whole  course  of  the  trade 
is  known.  And  the  seat  of  the  general  government  is  too 
far  removed  from  the  scene  of  this  trade  to  allow  any  of- 
ficer, however  vigilant,  stationed  at  the  former  place,  to 
ascertain  the  abuse  to  which  the  trade  is  liable,  or  the 
conduct  of  the  traders  themselves. 

The  plan  of  establishing  a  superintendent  at  St.  Louis 
is  liable  to  all  the  objections  wliicli  may  be  urged  against 
his  establishment  at  AV^ashington,  and  to  some  which  are 
peculiar  to  itself. 

St.  Louis  is  not  and  cannot  be  a  ceniral  point  for  the 
management  of  Indian  affairs.  From  Florida,  fr<nn 
Geor<>ia,  Alal)ama,  the  l\ed  Kiver  country,  the  Lower 
Mississippi,  the  State  of  Ohio,  the  whole  lake  country,  and 
the  State  of  New  Yorl^,  the  comnuinication  is  nuich  more 
easy  and  direct  w'ith  Washington  than  with  St.  Louis. 
The  only  Indians  who  have  any  natural  connection  witii 
that  place  are  those  u[)()n  the  Missouri  and  a  portion  of 
those  upon  the  Mississip[)i. 

What  possible  advantage  would  ensue  to  the  i)ublic  by 
sending  a  connnunication  from  Pensacola,  Natchitoches, 
or  jMichillimachinac  to  St.  J^ouis,  i?i  order  that  an  ollicer 
at  that  place  may  forward  it  to  Washington,  and  that  the 
answer  and  instructions  may  travel  the  same  circuitous 
route?  The  Indians  at  these  places  never  visit  St.  Louis. 
Nor  is  there  any  connection  which  would  lead  them  there. 
If  an  ayent  to  mana<»e  Indian  affairs  at  St.  Louis  is  want- 
ing,  then  let  him  be  apiminted.  Ihit  let  not  his  juris- 
diction extend  over  persons  and  places  remotely  situated, 
of  which  he  can  know  nothing. 
13 


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t 

194 


IIArilAZAUD    PEIISONALITIES. 


An  important  part  of  the  duty  of  a  superintendent  is 
tlie  distri])nti()n  of  the  necessary  funds  to  tlie  respective 
agents.  But  St.  Louis  is  very  ineonveniently  situated  for 
tliis  purpose! ;  its  cireulatlug  medium  cannot  pass  the 
])oun(hiries  of  the  State  ;  it  would  be  wliollv  useless  in 
the  southern,  southwestern,  and  northwestern  parts  of  the 
country.  Remittances  for  these  expenditures  can  be  made 
from  the  treasury  with  much  more  ease  than  from  St. 
Louis. 

It  is  the  duty  of  an  agent  to  license  the  traders,  and  to 
take  care  that  the  laws  respectini!:  them  are  faithfully  ex- 
ecuted ;  to  pay  the  Indians  their  annuities,  and  to  perform 
the  various  treaty  stipulations  which  exist  to  p-rotect 
them  in  their  persons  and  property,  to  prevent  any  persons 
from  trespassing  upon  their  lands,  to  examine  and  to  re- 
dress all  complaints,  as  well  from  them  as  from  our  own 
citizens,  to  carry  into  effect  the  reii'ulations  and  instruc- 
tions  of  the  government ;  and  generally,  by  mild,  fuMii,  and 
prudent  conduct,  to  conciliate  their  esteem,  and  to  attach 
them  to  tlie  people  and  government  of  the  Ignited  States. 

In  the  execution  of  these  various  duties  it  ma}^  readily 
be  conceived  how  useless  it  would  be  to  station  an  ollice 
at  St.  Louis  with  any  power  to  control  these  agents  and 
to  report  to  the  AVar  Department.  It  will  be  much  easier 
for  the  agent  to  report  directly  to  the  seat  of  government ; 
and  the  proper  authority  there  can  answer  them  as  well  as 
a  superintendent. 

In  fact,  it  is  difficult  to  discover  one  solitary  reason  for 
the  location  of  such  an  ofliee  at  that  place.  It  is  farcical 
to  think  of  vesting  in  him  authority  to  issue  licenses 
throuiih  the  whole  extent  of  Indian  country.  No  tradei's 
embarked  in  this  business  pass  St.  Louis,  except  those 
destined   up   the   Missouri.     Can    they   travel   from   the 


LEWIS   CASS. 


195 


northern  and  southern  extreme  of  the  l^nion  to  that  phicc 
annuallv  for  the  neeessarv  authority  to  i)roseeute  their 
trades?  And  when  they  arrive  tiiere,  what  is  known  of 
tiieni?  Why  send  them  one  tliousand  miles  from  tlicir 
route  to  a  person  ignorant  of  tlieir  eliaraeter  and  standing, 
unaecjuainted  wilh  the  trade,  and  knowing  Httle  of  its 
(h'tails,  except  in  tiiat  (piarter  within  hisown  observation? 
Nothing  is  gained  1)\'  this  process  to  the  government,  the 
commissioner,  or  the  Indians.  Frauds  will  neither  be  i)re- 
vented  nor  [)unished.  And  the  only  result  will  be  the 
establishment  of  a  useless  and  exi)ensive  olllcc,  which  will 
serve  merely  as  a  channel  of  conniiunica<^ion  between  the 
government  and  the  agents  ;  which  in  all  cases  will  in- 
crease and  in  many  will  double  the  distance  and  the  time 
of  comnnniication  ;  which  will  embarrass  and  delay  the 
public  service  ;  which  will  send  the  traders,  at  a  great  ex- 
pense, from  where  they  are  known  to  where  they  are  un- 
known for  licenses,  and  which  will  introduce  confusion  and 
insubordination  into  the  whole  department. 

I>ut  Vv'hy  is  St.  Louis  selected  as  the  seat  of  this  ollice? 
The  Indian  tradt^  at  that  place  has  been  greatly  over- 
rated. The  exportation  of  furs  from  IMichillimachinac 
is  treble  in  quantity  and  still  greater  in  value.  Is  tiiis 
trade  to  be  turned  from  its  natural  and  accustomed  chan- 
nel to  gratify  any  particular  section  of  the  country?  Are 
the  Indians  between  the  lakes  and  the  JNIississlppi,  exceed- 
ing forty  thousand  in  number,  to  be  sent  to  vSt.  Louis  for 
the  transaction  of  all  their  Imsiness?  Such  an  eff*)rt  may 
b(5  made,  but  cannot  succeed.  Their  local  situation  and 
their  habits  equally  forl)id  it. 

The  agents,  by  one  of  the  bills,  are  required  to  make 
monthly  reports  ;  and  this  requisition  being  injpracticable, 
in  consequence  of  the  exclusion  of  some  of  the  agencies 


i 


I 

i 


196 


HAl'IIAZAKI)    I'KUSONALrrihS. 


\m 


k' 


i;  ■ 
It! 


I 


by  the  winter,  it  is  iinpossihle  U)  diseover  what  is  to  be  re- 
ported. The  agent  can  only  say,  I  sat  l»y  my  fire  t<)-(hiy 
and  will  to-morrow.  The  Indians  at  the  approacli  of  winter 
se])arate  for  their  hnntini;-  (•ami)s.  These  they  do  not  leave 
till  si)rin«j; ;  nntil  then  there  is  little  to  be  done,  and  it  is 
seldom  that  anvthin<«:  occnrs  worthy  of  notice. 

Jt  has  also  been  proposed  that  each  trader  shall  sup- 
port !i  blacksmith,  provide  iron,  coal,  cattle,  farming  uten- 
sils, and  seed  corn. 

In  the  nume  of  all  that  is  serious,  at  whose  expense  is 
this  to  be  done?  The  trader  nnist  charge  it  on  the  goods, 
and  the  poor  Indians  nnist  ultimately  pay  it.  Merchan- 
dise in  the  Indian  country  is  already  sullicientlv  high,  from 
the  nature  of  the  trade,  and  it  is  with  ureat  dillicultv  that 
the  Indians  can  purchase  enough  for  their  sui)[)ort.  But 
if  the  traders  arc  to  be  loaded  with  these  requisitions,  it 
will  soon  be  found  that  the  most  necessary  articles  will  be 
placed  beyond  the  reach  of  the  Indians.  How  is  it  pos- 
sible, even  at  almost  any  expense,  that  anvils,  bellows, 
blacksmith's  tools  generally,  iron,  etc.,  can  be  transi)orted 
in  birch  canoes  or  carried  over  the  numerous  portages  upon 
men's  shoulders ?  AVho  Avould  undertake  at  any  ])rice  to 
drive  cattle  to  the  Ivocky  IMountains,  to  the  head  of  the 
JNIississippi,  or  to  the  extremity  of  Lake  Superior?  And 
supposing  all  this  to  be  practicable  and  within  the  means 
of  every  trader,  still  it  would  be  useless  to  the  Indians. 
The  animals  would  be  killed,  the  seed  corn  consumed,  and 
the  fire  of  the  blacksmith  seldom  kindled.  The  remote 
Indians  cannot  be  brought  immediately  to  adopt  a  system 
of  agriculture.  It  is  incompatible  with  their  education 
and  habits.  The  first  impression  nuist  be  made  upon  the 
Indians  near  our  own  border.  They  nmst  see  and  feel  the 
advantaues  which  are  offered  to  them.     And  these  Indians 


LKWIS   CASS. 


107 


CMH  procure  all  the  necesHnry  jutlcloH  mucli  cheaper  within 
our  Hettlcuients,  than  from  tlie  trach'rs.  In  fact,  mH  tlie  iron 
Avork  which  they  recpiire  is  nwide  at  the  public;  shops. 

Of  the  factories  I  have  notliing  to  say.  liut  whether 
they  Jire  continued  or  not,  it  is  certain  that  no  power 
which  cjin  be  applied  will  prevent  private  traders  from  en- 
terinj^  the  Indinn  country.  Our  settlements  are  so  ex- 
tended that  adventurers  will  emltark  in  tiiis  business,  and 
sound  I'ollcy  will  dictate  that  wh:it  cannot  be  prevented 
siionld  b(;  tolerated  :ind  regulated. 

The  <>{)vernors  of  'reiritoricss  are  ex-ofllcio  superintend- 
ents of  Indian  affairs  within  their  respective  Territories. 
Whether  a  general  superintending  ollico  be  created  or  not, 
this  dutv  should  remain.  If  the  olllce  be  created,  the  ter- 
ritorial  governor  would  be  subordinate  to  the  su[)erintend- 
ent.  Tlie  United  States  thus  receives  the  service  of  re- 
spectable and  highly  resi)onsible  olllcers  in  an  importtint 
department,  and  this  as  a  general  bi-anch  of  their  duty. 
The  governors  are,  in  fact,  ngents,  and  conduct  the  Indian 
alTairs  at  the  seat  of  their  government,  and  have;  a  general 
superintendence  over  subordinate  atTairs.  It  is  dilllcultto 
conceive  how  the  executive  duties  in  a  Territory  can  be 
performed  without  the  exercise  of  this  power.  The  Terri- 
tories are  of  course  at  the  outskirts  of  the  Union.  Here 
our  citizens  and  the  Indians  meet  Collisions  are  i)erpet- 
u;dlv  occurrinu',  which  demand  the  interference  of  some 
controlling  authority.  Injuries  are  connnitted  and  redress 
is  claimed.  There  nmst  be  some  power  to  wield  and 
direct  the  physical  force  of  the  country,  and  this  power 
must  be  authorized  to  hear  and  decide  upon  these  sub- 
jects. In  places  so  remote,  it  is  also  highly  import.'uit 
that  these  questions  should  be  investigated  and  decided 
hj  an  officer  whose  station  would  give  dignity  and  effect 


i 

h 


ft 


I 


1'  I 

•!; 

;;    : 

■<, 

r  I.   » 
1 

! 

1' 

w 

w 

ittil 


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7' 


f  fif' 


198 


IIArilAZAUD    PERSONALITIfiS. 


to  his  roi)r('senttitions.  The  Indians  too,  under  all  circum- 
stances, are  desirous  of  appealing  to  the  highest  authority, 
and  tlie  representative  of  their  great  Father  should  be  the 
point  of  union  between  them  and  their  white  ])rethren. 
This  duty  litis  existed  ever  since  the  existence  of  Terri- 
tories, tind  will  be  found  in  the  ordinance  of  July,  187H. 
At  the  seat  of  government  of  Arkansas,  at  Pensacola,  and 
at  Dc^troit,  some  officer  nuist  be  charged  Avith  these  duties, 
and  the  p»ublic  would  gain  nothing  by  talking  from  the  gov- 
ernors their  authority  and  vesting  it  in  subordinate  officers. 
It  may  be  asked,  AVliat  can  be  done  to  aid  the  Indians? 
I  answer,  distrilMite  gratuitously,  to  such  of  them  as  wish 
it,  farming  utensils,  cattle,  and  seed  corn ;  begin  with 
tliose  upon  our  l)orders.  Kmploy  good  men  to  teach 
them  ;  insure  a  mild,  linn,  and  even  policy  ;  give  them 
occasionally  goods,  anuiuinition,  and  provisions  ;  let  not 
their  i)rejudices  be  shocked  unnecessarily.  Nor  nmst  we 
be  too  sanguine  with  respect  to  an  innnediate  result;  time 
and  experience  will  do  much,  l)ut  all  will  be  hazarded  by 
a  precipitate  and  injudicious  policy. 


Very  truly 


Lewis  Cass. 


Wlieu,  in  1821,  the  question  was  discussed  about  estab- 
lishing a  land  ollice  in  the  Territoiy  of  JMichigan,  General 
("ass  took  an  active  part  in  designating  the  proi)er  per- 
sons for  the  new  olHces  of  register  and  receiver.  Ilis 
c.'indidate  for  the  former  i)()sition  was  Charles  Nc^ble,  of 
whom,  in  letters  addressed  to  Mai-tin  Van  Bui'cn  and 
lU'njamin  IJtiggles,  he  said,  '•'•  He  is  a  young  man  of 
handsome  tnh'uts,  nntural  and  acquired,  and  with  the  fair- 
est character  and  best  principles."  The  letters  in  question 
were  borne  t<j  Washington  by  my  father,  who  also  threw 


LEWIS  CASS. 


199 


his  influence  in  the  same  direction,  but  without  avail,  for 
an  ex-meinber  of  Congress,  and  a  most  excellent  man, 
Robert  Clark,  received  the  appointment.  As  my  grand- 
father had  frequently  consulted  the  wishes  of  Gxcneral 
Cass  in  regard  to  the  affairs  of  ^Michigan,  he  took  it  upon 
himself  to  reconnnend  my  father  for  the  ollice  of  reccnver, 
and  surely  no  true-hearted  reader  will  rebuke  me  for 
l)rinting  the  following  letter  :  — 

Detkoit,  Dec.  23,  1821. 
To  William  II.  Ceawfokd,  iSecretanj  of  the  Treasury. 

Sir,  —  I  had  the  honor,  duriug  the  last  session  of  Con- 
gress, to  recommeud  to  you  Colonel  Charles  J.  LaUiUan, 
of  the  county  of  jNIonroe  in  this  Territory,  as  a  gentleman 
every  way  qualified  to  lill  one  of  the  land  oflices,  whieli  it 
was  then  expected  would  be  estal)lished  in  that  quarter. 
The  proposition  for  their  establishment  was  postponed  in 
the  Senate,  but,  as  there  is  reason  for  l)elieving  that  the 
subject  will  l)e  novr  moie  favoral)ly  received,  I  take  the 
liberty  of  renev/iug  the  application  then  made. 

I  have  verv  seldom  offered  anv  testimonial  of  mine  in 
favor  of  an}'  individuid  with  more  interest  than  in  this 
case,  nor  is  there  any  person  within  my  knowledge  upon 
whom  the  office  could  be  better  bestowed,  or  who  would 
discharge  its  duties  with  more  zeid,  fidelitv,  or  abilitv.  I 
know  him  well,  and  do  not  fear  to  pledge  myself  for  his 
ctn)acitv  and  integritv.  No  v<mno;  man  has  ever  arrived 
among  us  giving  fairer  ])r()mise  of  an  hoiiorable  and  use- 
ful course  of  life,  and  of  that  reputation  and  standing 
which  are  its  invarialtle  and  nerjessary  results.  Very 
respectfully  sir,  I  have  the  honor  to  be, 

Your  obedient  servant, 

Lewis  Cass. 


200 


HArnAZARD   PERSONALITIES. 


^i 


.;i  i     !  i 


This  letter,  wliich  was  supported  by  another  on  the 
same  subject  from  William  Wocxlbridge,  had  the  intended 
effect,  and  ray  father  was  daly  appointed,  holding  the 
ofiicecigiit  years.  During  tlie  p^Tiod  of  nearly  fifty  years, 
the  friendship  which  existed  between  him  and  (reneral 
Cass  was  unbroken,  and  of  course,  a  large  numlx'r  of 
letters  were  exchanged  In'twecn  them,  ])ut  what  have  al- 
ready been  presented  will  sullice  as  specimens. 

The  letters  which  it  was  my  privilege  to  receive  from 
General  Cass  were  also  numerous,  ])nt  they  were  mostly 
upon  passing  topics,  and  in  loolving  over  tliem,  I  find  few 
passages  which  are  either  characteristic  or  of  i)'iblic  interest. 
One  or  two  of  them,  however,  may  l)e  (pioted  perhai)s  as 
coming  within  tlie  plan  of  the  personal  recollections  which 
form  tlie  staph'  of  the  present  volume.  Tn  acknowledg- 
inu'  the    receipt   of    a    copv  of  mv  '"■  Adventures  in    the 


AVilds  of  America,"  this  friend  of  my  early  days  sent  me 
the  following  note  :  — 


iiii 


^  t,i 


I  ■    ! 


Washtxgton,  March  17, 1857. 

Dear  Sir,  —  I  return  you  my  sincere  tliankn  for  the  in- 
teresting volumes  von  have  been  good  enough  to  send  me. 
I  have  read  them  witli  much  i)lcasure.  They  are  gi'aphic 
and  faithful  in  description,  and  powerful  in  narration;  tlie 
reader  follows  the  traveller  with  unflagging  interest.  Re- 
viewing  many  of  the  scenes  in  your  pages,  Avhicli,  years 
au'o,  1  surveyed  in  the  wildness  of  nature,  I  have  recalled 
Avith  vivid  recollections  the  impression  they  then  made  upon 
me,  and  I  thank  you  for  the  gratification  which  this  retro- 
spect  has  afforded  me.     I  am,  dear  sir, 

T'uly  yours, 

Lkwis  Cass. 


liir 


MANTON   EASTIHIIN. 


201 


When  my  "Dictionary  of  Congress  "was  pul)lislied,  jiniong 
the  friends  to  whom  I  sent  copies  wiis  General  Cass,  and 
he  very  much  more  than  paid  me  for  the  volume  by  send- 
ing me  the  following  :  — 

Washington,  Feb.  4,  18r)<). 

My  dear  Sir, — I  am  greatly  obliged  to  you  for  llie 
present  of  your  interesting  Congressioual  ])iograp]iy.  I 
have  looked  it  over  with  nmeh  gratiiication,  and  shall  here- 
after peruse  it  with  more.  It  was  a  good  thought,  tiiat 
of  prep:iriug  such  a  work,  and  well  has  it  been  executed. 
I  liave  been  greatly  struck  with  the  fortuuate  manner  in 
Avhicli  you  hnve  avoided  that  sameness  which  is  almost 
necessarily  incident  to  such  an  undertaking,  bv  si)irited 
sketches,  true  while  characteristic.  1  congratulate  you 
upon  the  successful  accomplishment  of  your  task. 

Accei)t  my  thanks  for  the  kind  terms  in  which  you  have 

been  pleased  to  speak  of  me.     I  am,  dear  sir,  with  great 

regard,  Truly  yours. 

Lewis  Cass. 


This  friend  of  departed  years  was  an  honor  to  his  natiye 
country,  and,  as  the  leading  hindmark  in  the  history  of 
my  native  IMichigan,  he  nnist  always  be  remembered  by 
me  with  pride  and  affection. 


MANTOX   EASl'IUTRN. 

Now  that  this  good  man  has  passed  away  into  the  land 
of  peace,  the  spirit  moyes  me  to  give  the  public  a  single 
glimpse  of  his  character  from  my  own  humble  standpoint. 
He  was  an  honored  ])ishop  for  thirty  years  ;  and  yet  I  knew 
him  ])efore  his  promotion.  During  my  Pearl  Street  days 
in  New  York,  I  luid  a  habit  of  tvttending  the  Church  of 


1 

1 

■   ; 
■ 

■  1 

m 


i 

ji 

i       ] 

i         SI 

1    , 

1 

i 

I 


202 


IIAPIIAZARI)    rERSONALlTItS. 


the  Ascension  on  Sunday  evenings  ;  und  some  of  tlie  wise 
and  loving  sermons  which  I  there  heard  can  never  be  for- 
gotten. One  of  them,  especially,  made  a  very  deep  im- 
pression on  my  mind ;  and  it  was  from  this  text,  ' '  We 
have  j)iped  unto  you,  and  ye  have  not  danced ;  we  have 
mourned  unto  3^ou,  and  ye  have  not  lamented."  Among 
the  congregation,  hut  not  one  of  the  listeners,  on  that 
occasion,  was  one  of  the  students  of  the  Cicnertd  Theologi- 
cal Seminary.  He  was  accompanied  ])y  a  lad}',  ^ccui)ied 
a  conspicuous  seat  in  the  gallery,  near  the  pulpit,  and,  l>y 
his  talking  and  laughing,  conducted  himself  after  the  mnii- 
ner  of  a  very  foolish  boy  ;  so  improper  was  his  conduct 
indeed,  that  one  of  the  congregation  spoke  of  him  after- 
wards as  "  a  disgraceful  sprig  of  divinity."  But  the  dan- 
cing days  of  that  young  man  and  poet  came  to  an  end  ;  and 
he  is,  to-day,  a  bishop  of  the  Episcopal  church.  The  ser- 
mon alluded  to  h;id  a  power  in  it  I  could  not  resist ;  and, 
althouifh  mv  leanings,  both  as  bov  and  man,  have  Itcen 
towards  the  Presbyterian  form  of  worship,  I  wrote  a  letter 
to  Mr.  Eastburn  on  the  subject  of  religion,  and  it  is  his  reply 
which  I  now  wish  to  print.  AVhatever  may  be  thought  of 
the  late  bishop's  imperious  manners,  or  of  his  independence 
and  church  prejudices,  his  sermons  prove  him  to  have  becm 
an  eloquent  preticher,  his  books  displa}^  scholai'ship  of  n, 
high  order,  his  personal  friends  will  always  sing  his  praises 
because  of  his  kind  heart  and  his  fidelity,  and  the  following 
letter  will  exhibit  him  as  an  earnest  Bible  ( 'hristian  :  — 

New  YoiMv,  March  2,  ls:}7. 

3fi/  dear  young  Friend^  —  I  hope  you  will  not  suppose 
me  to  be  merely  trying  to  make  out  an  apology  when  I  say 
to  you  that  a  succession  of  interruptions  has  hindered  me 
from   sooner   addressing   you  on  tlie  interesting  subject 


MANTON   EASTIiUllN.. 


203 


of  your  spiritual  welfare.  Such,  however,  is  the  fact ;  aud 
one  reason  of  my  wishing  to  see  you  was  tliat  I  could  have 
expressed  to  you  in  less  time  my  thoughts  and  feelings, 
and  probably  with  more  definiteness,  by  a  personal  inter- 
view than  bv  anv  written  connnunication.  It  i>ives  me 
sincere  joy,  liowever,  to  speak  to  you  in  any  way  ;  but  I 
UHist  ])eijr  that,  if  vou  iind  need  of  any  further  counsel, 
vou  will  lay  aside  all  restraint  and  tiniiditv,  and  come  to 
me  as  vou  would  to  the  most  intimjite  friend  and  brother. 

It  lias  pleased  God  to  touch  your  heart  with  a  sense  of 
the  vanity  of  the  world,  your  own  sinfulness,  and  your 
need  of  Christ.  This  is  the  first  dawning  of  religious 
impression  in  your  heart.  Here  let  me  impress  upon  you 
the  great  danger  lest  these  feelings  should  l»e  merely  tran- 
sient, like  "  the  morning  cloud  and  the  early  dew."  Such 
they  will  certainly  be,  unless  followed  up  ])y  the  means  of 
grace.  Make  it  your  earnest  prayer,  therefore,  to  (Jod 
that  he  will  ])ring  you  to  a  deep  lasting  sense  of  your  past 
sins,  and  that  he  would  bring  vou  in  gratitude  and  faith 
to  lav  hold  inunediatelv  upon  the  cross  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ  as  the  way  of  eternal  life  and  salvation.  In  addi- 
tion to  this,  take  up  the  liible  and  retid  it  regularly,  accom- 
panying your  reading  with  prayer  for  a  divine  blessing  on 
its  perusal.  You  Avill  find,  in  this  way,  that  your  convic- 
tions will  ripen  into  settled  principles,  aud  that  you  will 
grow  in  happiness,  in  knowledge,  in  strength  to  oliey 
(lod's  connnandments,  and  in  the  al)ility  to  pursue  steadily 
the  desj^iscd  but  certain  road  "  which  leadeth  unto  life." 

Allow  me  to  suggest  to  3'on,  my  dear  sir,  the  expediency 
of  your  cultivating  the  acquaintance  of  one  or  more  pious 
friends.  Nothing  is  more  calculated  to  encouraire  and 
strengthen  reliofious  feelinus  than  this.  If  vou  find  that 
you  increase  in  your  interest  in  the  great  subject  of  reli- 


il 

1 1 

1 

1 

1 

^         ■ 

} : 

I 

:    \l  1 

1;      j 

1 

1  8 

f  .n 


i\.  ij  ■  - 


I 


1 ;. 

4 


204 


IIAI'IIAZATID    PERSONALITIES. 


•Ilt'j: 


i 


gioii,  and  that  your  knowledge  becomes  greater,  T  should 
recommend  that  you  should  connncnce  some  part  in  the 
duties  of  a  Sunday  school.  Perhaps  you  may  feel  yourself 
unfitted  for  this  ;  l)ut  there  are  yarious  departments  in  the 
duty  of  a  teacher,  and  you  might  1)egin  with  tlie  more  easy. 
Tlie  reason  for  my  mentioninir  this  is  that  it  would  hrinLi 
you  into  accniaintance  with  some  yoiniy  uentlemen  of  de- 
cided  C'lu'istian  character,  Avhose  fraternal  interest  in  you 
would  be  of  great  seryice,  and  whose  occasional  society 
would  proye  interesting. 

Another  thing  I  would  urge  on  3'ou  is  this,  to  haye  as 
little  to  do  a.s  j>o.s's/We  with  irreligious,  worldly  companions. 
To  a  certain  extent  a  Christian  is  compelled  to  mix  with 
the  world  in  the  daily  business  of  life.  Seek  to  preserye 
yourself  from  the  contagion,  howeyer,  of  eyil  example  and 
conyersation,  eyen  though  you  cannot  ayoid  witnessing  it. 
And,  if  you  haye  been  for  some  time  on  intimate  terms 
with  a  few  who  are  liying  altogether  for  this  Avorld,  do  not 
shake  them  off  harshly,  but  so  mnnage  matters  that  3'ou 
may  appear  l)efore  them  in  an  aspect  of  loye.  If  3'our  own 
views  continue,  these  persons  will,  by  degrees,  drop  off  as 
a  matter  of  course  ;  for  ''how  can  two  walk  together  except 
they  be  a":reed?"  Of  course  I  need  not  say  to  vou  that, 
in  no  respect,  should  you  comply  with  them  in  anything 
inconsistent  with  your  present  couyictions  and  with  the  light 
of  conscience.  Do  not  haye  any  compromise  with  worldly 
men.  This  will  destroy  your  character  at  once,  and  will 
prevent  God's  blessing.  Boldly  and  firmly,  but  modestly 
and  Junnhht,  take  your  own  course  and  yield  to  nothino;. 

I  should  recommend  you  to  have  some  religious  book 
constantly  in  reading.  When  one  is  finished,  take  up  an- 
other.    This  will  elevate  vour  mind  and  warm  your  heart, 

I  have,  perhaps,  not  been  (it  till  to  the  point  in  what  I 


MANTON  EASTliURN. 


205 


have  said ;  but  you  will  easily  perceive  that,  from  my 
entire  uiuicquaintance  with  your  character  and  habits,  I 
must  speak  to  you  a  good  deal  in  tlie  dark.  If  what  I 
have  Siiid  does  not  meet  your  case,  1  bei*',  atfectionatelv, 
that  y(ju  will  excuse  me,  and  accept  the  ])W)"pose  and  inten- 
tion of  my  heart.  It  is  my  earnest  wish  to  see  3'oii  ;  for  I 
could  say  more  in  five  mimites,  in  a  conversation  with  you, 
than  in  whole  sheets  of  letters. 

That  God  mav  ])e  i)leased  to  lead  vou  on  to  an  entire 

\/  X  ft, 

consecration  of   yourself  to  his  service,  and  may  at  last 

ft.  '  ft 

give  you  a  phice  in  his  kingdom  of  ha[)piness  and  glory,  is 
the  prayer  of 

Your  affectionate  friend, 

Manton  Eastburn. 


f 


That  I  subsequently  V<ecame  personally  ac(puunted  with 
the  writer  of  this  noble  letter,  and,  prior  to  his  removal  to 
JJoston,  was  })rivileged  to  enjoy  his  friendship,  were  a  nat- 
ural result.  In  his  manners  and  air  of  authority  he  always 
seemed  to  me  to  be  a  model  bishop  and  Christian  gentle- 
man ;  and  my  affections  were  with  him  in  all  his  public  life. 
Tn  the  early  part  of  18G(),  while  endeavoring  to  have  a 
clerical  friend  of  mine  transferred  from  a  Southern  parish 
to  one  in  INIassachusetts,  I  wrote  the  bishop  a  letter 
on  the  subject.  In  his  reply,  which  was  very  kind  and 
minute,  he  promised  to  do  what  he  could  for  my  friend, 
and  concluded  the  business  part  of  it  with  these  words  :  — 

"  But  you  know  that  bishops  of  dioceses  are  not  always 
consulted  in  these  matters." 

Another  paragraph  of  the  same  letter  was  as  follows  :  — 

"  I  have  been  very  much  gratified  to  hear  from  you  after 
the  lapse  of  so  many  years,  and  feel  grateful  that  you  have 
not  forgotten  me.     I  remember  you  well ;  and  allow  me  to 


{•  ■  ■      ♦ 

if 

i 

V 


206 


IIAl'IIAZARD    PERSONALITIES. 


express  the  hope  that,  as  iny  muiistrations  were  the  humble 
instruuu'ut  of  leadiiiii:  you  into  our  beloved  chureh,  vou 
still  remain  attached  to  those  evanoclieal  and  Proti^stant 
truths  which  are  the  glory  of  our  Prayer-I5ook.  I  say  this 
because,  since  I  saw  you,  vieics  and  practices  have  arisen 
ill  our  contmanioti  at  utter  variance  vith  the  principles  of 
the  Jieforination,  and  tendiny  toward  the  doctrines  cuid cere- 
monies of  that  IDOLATUOL'S  j'Ai'AL  ciiUKCii  froui  wliose  do- 
minion  we  came  out.  Build  all  your  hopes,  my  dear  friend, 
ui)on  Jesus,  received  in  your  soul  by  faith.  With  great 
re<»:ard,  I  am,  sincerely  and  aft'ectionatelv,  yours  as  of  old." 
The  last  time  I  saw  Bishop  Eastburn  was  in  1871,  when 
he  attended  the  general  convention  at  Baltimore,  and  came 
over  from  that  city  to  preach  in  Georgetown,  on  which 
occasion  he  spent  a  night  under  my  roof,  and  greatly 
delighted  me  with  a  long  talk  about  the  olden  times  in 
New  York,  and  with  anecdotes  of  his  several  visits  to  Kug- 
land,  the  land  of  liis  nativity.  As  I  recall  the  manly  pres- 
ence and  exalted  character  of  the  departed  bishoi),  the 
words  of  Thomas  Fuller  come  into  my  mind,  when  speak- 
ing of  the  faithful  minister;  ^  He  was  moderate  in  his 
tenets  and  opinions  ;  and,  lying  on  his  death-])ed,  he  be- 
queathed to  each  of  his  parishioners  his  precepts  and 
exam})le  for  a  legacy." 


f 

'      1 

'l 
,  ■  1 

:  j 

• 

LOUIS    LEORAND   NOBLE. 

While  my  sympathies  have  always  been  with  the  Pres- 
byterians, several  of  my  most  intimate  friends  have  l)een 
clergymen  of  the  Episcopal  church.  Their  number  corre- 
sponds with  that  of  the  "seven  golden  candlesticks "  of 
the  Bible ;    and  they  will  all  be  remembered  as  shining 


1  .'k 


LOUIS    LE(iRANI)   NOIJLE. 


207 


lights,  each  oue  a  blessing  in  the  community  where  he 
resided. 

The  familiar  letters  which  these  men  hiive  written  to  me 
during  the  last  forty  years  ai'e  very  numerous,  and  chiefly 
associated  witli  literature  and  art,  the  works  of  nature  and 
religion.  Indeed,  it  has  occurred  to  me  that,  under  tlie 
title  of  "  ]My  Seven  Friends,"  I  could  i)ul)lisli  a  very  valu- 
able and  delightful  volume,  composed  of  their  correspond- 
ence, as  they  were  and  are  all  men  of  genius  and  liigh  cul- 
ture. The  names  of  these  ooodlv  friends  are :  Louis  L. 
Noble  ;  John  S.  Kedney,  author,  and  professor  at  Fari- 
bault, Minn.  ;  A.  Frank  Olinstead,  ck'rgyman  at  Hyde 
Park,  N.  Y.  ;  A.  IJeach  Carter,  clergyman  in  New  York 
City  ;  Johannes  A.  Oertel,  artist,  and  clergynuiu  of  North 
Carolina  ;  John  II.  C.  lioute,  clergyman,  and  secretary  of 
the  University  of  California ;  and  Octavius  Perenchief, 
who  died  at  IJridgeport,  Penn.,  in  April,  1877. 

I  first  met  IMr.  Noble  in  the  city  of  New  York,  in  1839, 
at  the  house  of  Park  Benjamin,  when  he  was  a  student  at 
the  General  Theological  Seminary,  and  I  a  Pearl  Street 
clerk.  As  he  h;id  spent  a  part  of  his  boyhood  in  the  wilds 
of  my  native  State,  Michigan  (although  born  in  New  York, 
in  1812),  we  l)ecame  intimate  from  the  start.  T  frec^uently 
visited  him  at  the  seminary,  where  I  formed  the  accpiaint- 
ance  of  his  fellow-students,  Kedney  and  Olmstead ;  and 
the  night  discussions,  sustained  by  moderate  feasting, 
which  we  were  wont  to  enjo}- ,  did  much  to  direct  me  into 
the  path  of  literature,  which  I  have  since  })ursued  in  si)ite 
of  my  want  of  a  college  education.  In  one  of  his  first 
letters,  written  to  me  from  the  seminary  to  Pearl  Street, 
he  said  :  "We  drink  cocoa  Friday  eve,  at  nine  of  the  time- 
teller.  Do  come  and  drink  with  us.  You  are  the  only 
one  in  Babylon  who  could  be  admitted  to  come." 


41 


I:  . 


:ilil 


I 


t  i    I 


208 


lIArilAZAltl)    I'KltSONALITIES. 


ii 


After  his  {idiniasion  to  orders,  he  was  settled  over  par- 
ishes ill  Albany,  Elizal)eth  City,  N.  C,  Catsivill,  Chicago, 
(lien's  Falls,  Fredoiiia,  and  Hudson  City,  N.  J.,  after 
whieii  lie  became  a  professor  of  English  literature  at  St. 
Stephen's  College,  Annandale,  New  York,  lie  was  born  a 
poet,  and  when  he  began  to  publisli  in  the  magazines,  and 
es[)eeially  in  the  old  "American  IMonthly,"  I  i)roi)!iesied 
for  him,  in  one  of  mv  earliest  essays,  a  very  brilliant 
career;  but  devotion  to  his  sacred  profession,  and  a  per- 
verse habit  of  pruning  his  writings  to  excess,  combined 
to  prevent  him,  in  ni}'^  opinion,  from  attaining  the  position 
as  a  poet  which  he  deserved.  His  only  volume  of  verse, 
entitled  "-The  Lady  Angeline,"  etc.,  was  published  in 
18r)(),  and,  although  abounding  in  beautiful  passages,  I 
think  it  will  be  found  that  several  of  the  poems  are  not  as 
perfect  in  their  revised  shape  as  when  originally  published. 
His  poems  of  "  Niniahinin,"  "  Tewatem,"  and  "Home "  will 
always  be  read  with  pleasure,  liy  the  public  generally,  how- 
ever, he  is  better  known  as  a  prose  writer  ;  and  his  "  Life  of 
Thomas  Cole"  and  "After  Icebergs  with  a  Tainter"  were 
both  successful  productions.  To  have  been  the  intimate 
friend  —  the  executor  and  biographer  —  of  Thomas  Cole, 
and  the  travelling  companion  of  Frederick  E,  Church,  aside 
from  all  other  considerations,  are  quite  suflicient  to  give 
him  a  lasting  reputation  among  men  of  culture.  His  It-ve 
of  nature  was  a  kind  of  passion,  which  he  had  the  good 
fortune  to  indulge  to  a  degree  uncommon  with  men  of  his 
profession  ;  and  one  of  the  pleasantest  summer  tours  that 
I  remember  was  made  with  him  into  the  wilds  of  Canada, 
wdien  we  were  accompanied  by  our  wives,  and  an  account  of 
which  he  published  in  The  Literary  World.  As  a  writer  of 
familiar  letters,  judging  from  the  large  number  that  I  have 
received,  I  think  him  uncommonly  brilliant.     They  illus- 


LOUIS   LEGRAND   NOBLE. 


209 


tnite  the  mauy  sides  of  his  churiicter  iu  a  most  uliiirniin<>; 
iii!imu,*r  ;  aud  the  facility  witli  whiih  he  runs  from  bathos 
to  pathos,  aud  from  the  broadest  fun  to  the  liigher  regious 
of  thou<;ht,  ^'ive  his  letters  au  unspeakable  charm.  In 
tiiose  addressed  to  me  there  are,  of  course,  numv  thills 
which  it  would  not  be  proper  for  me  to  pul)lish  ;  l)ut  the 
following  disconnected  extracts  will  give  the  reader  an 
idea  of  my  friend's  qualities. 

The  first  letter  he  sent  me  after  his  arrival  in  North 
Carolina  contained  a  description  of  Harvey's  Neck,  iu  No- 
vember, 18 10,  aud  here  is  a  single  paragraph  :  — 

"Woods?  A  small  rhapsody  on  timber.  Eternal  and 
dark,  around  the  wide  prairie-plnntatious  do  tliey  stand; 
they  move  also  ;  and  yet,  when  they  have  trooped  it  around 
the  thousand  corn  anil  cotton  acres,  all  the  dead  hjug  night 
with  the  wind,  they  stand  all  still  in  the  morning.  They 
have  a  character,  too.  They  roar  when  you  go  into  them, 
as  nmch  as  to  say,  '  Kneel,  mortal ! '  And  their  light  green, 
unfading  mistletoe  they  shake  in  your  eye ;  their  moss, 
their  long,  long,  very  long  silvery  moss,  of  the  olden  time, 
thev  skake  in  vour  face.  Hast  seen  the  moss  of  a  South- 
ern  dismal?  It  hangs  from  the  chins  of  the  kinglv  trees 
like  beard  borrowed  from  the  departed  C^y clops,  or  from 
their  crests,  like  mane  from  a  stallion  behemoth.  Only 
think  of  a  deep  woodland,  all  dripping,  weeping !  aud 
that  don't  express  it,  for  moss  is  neither  butter  nor  tears. 
Jupiter  may  have  poured  an  old  gray  cloud  down  upon 
them  ;  and  the  shreds  of  the  wrack  hang  on  the  woods, 
dripping  iu  their  cloud-bath.  Glorious  old  woods  !  Yon- 
der comes  a  cypress.  He  moves  into  my  mind  like  the 
memory  of  a  mountain.  Old  Monarch  of  the  Dismal,  why, 
he  was  born  in  the  days  of  Cato  ;  he  roared  in  the  storms 

of  the  Cajsars.     His  court  dress,  like  the  laws  of  the  Per- 
il 


I 


i 


.4!:,. 


-  < 


■  I 


210 


ilArilAZAUl)    I'KUSONALrriKS. 


sitin,  alters  not.  It  is  iiiudo  of  the  nijjjH  of  jinti(iiiity,  it  is 
8()  ^niy  and  tiuie-«tuiiuMl.  It  is  no  (;ott^  or  llovving  robe^ 
but  S(rarfs  and  i»ir(ll('S  and  tre.s.seH  and  heard,  and  sashes 
as  j?ray  as  ashes  lian<>iii<j;  straight,  and  Iiaiighi<jj  ilonni  from 
fhiij;er-twi}^  and  erown.  He'll  stand  here  in  his  brandy- 
pond,  as  he  in,  if  they'll  let  him,  till  the  linal  lire  shall 
sin«i'e  him  naked;  for  surely  the  tempest  will  never  strip 
him  of  a  ribbon.  And  see  !  the  courtier  underwood  trees 
are  in  livery  in  the  same  antc'diluvian  fabrie." 

On  another  occasion,  after  mentioninjjf  the  fact  that  he 
had  just  receivvd  letters  from  his  heart-friends,  Olmstead, 
Kednev,  and  nivself,  he  thus  exclaims  :  — 

"  Heaven's  softest,  holiest  blessings  fall  like  dew  upon  ye, 
dear,  dear  hoys,  as  ye  are  in  very  deed,  and  1  hope  will  be 
forever.  Yes,  1  pray  that  ye  may  lh)urish  pure  mid  beauti- 
ful in  mind  and  feelin<>',  as  ve  have  been  created.  .  ,  . 
AVe  are,  my  Charles,  in  the  movement  of  a  life  that  v  ill 
brighten,  ay,  must  brighten,  until  the  smoky  air  of  this 
world  thins  away  into  the  atmosphere  of  realms  eternal ! 
Yes,  ever  so.  Gloria  Patri,  it  Fih'o,  et  Spiritai  Sancto. 
Amen.  And  when  we  meet  in  that  higher  and  cloudless 
region,  where  not  even  so  sinless  and  evanescent  a  thing  as 
sleep  can  part  us,  oh,  how  will  we  live  together,  and  discourse 
of  time  as  of  a  shadowy,  last-night's  dream  !  Oh,  how  will 
we  live  and  love  together,  and  by  the  power  of  thought 
and  love  weave  combinations  of  bliss  out  of  the  rich  deeps 
of  eternity,  until  we  weep  (if  there  be  tears  in  heaven) 
with  ecstasv  ;  and  because  the  ecstasy  is  innnortal !  " 

During  the  time  that  he  was  located  in  North  Carolina, 
Mr.  Noble  made  two  or  three  summer  visits  to  the  Cats- 
kill  Mountains  ;  and  in  one  of  his  letters  from  that  region, 
where  he  was  sojourning  with  Kedney  and  Olmstc^ad,  he 
gives  this  glowing  description  :  — 


LOnS    LK(}KAM)   NOBLE. 


211 


**  Wo  are  just  frctiii  IIi<4li  IVak  ;  this  jifti'mooii  we  ijjot 
lioiiie.  Wf  left  our  Uum  loom  licri^  vostordav,  at  haU' 
past  (»lii;lit,  A.  M.  Wu  (lined  just  J)el()\v  tlio  ])i'ak  itself.  — 
sav  lifteeii  liiiiidri'd  feet,  at  least,  from  the  suininit  :  and 
cleared  up  that  suddenly,  you  may  l>e  sure,  after  we  had 
smoked  our  usual  ('i<;ar.  Vou  rememhei'  our  smoke  under 
till'  Perilous  Kail,  whei-e  you  hurt  your  knee?  where  I 
bathed  in  the  fall  itself?  where  we  made  tea?  from  wlu'uee 
you  went  around  the  eorner  of  the  clitf,  with  some  little 
fear?  and  then  went  uj)  the  (Jray  Chasm — the  Devil's 
("haniher  —  and  then  j^ot  u^)  a  wonderment  at  nature's 
stone  walls  and  cellars,  and  lau;j,hed  like  a  villain  at  my  u[>- 
slip,  come-down-slam?  You  renieuiber  all,  then,  do  you, 
in  connection  with  that  memorable  dinner?  Well,  after 
just  such  another,  we  toiled  our  way  up  to  that  splendid 
peak  of  the  C'atskills.  Sonu^  rare  climbiui*;  we  had  of  it, 
I  tell  you.  When  nearly  up,  we  came  to  a  belt  of  .i»ray 
rock,  which  was  more  than  oui'  match.  We  contented 
ourselves  with  i>etti;i<>'  u[)  half-way,  and  l)ackinsi;  into  some 
deep,  narrow  caverns,  and  puttinjz;  our  faces  out  into  the 
clean,  deep-down  air,  for  the  sake  of  that  half-creation 
view  which  lay  beneath  and  before  us.  W(^  then  came 
meekly  down  again,  and  went  around  to  a  place  where 
thunder  and  lightning  usually  come  down.  I  guess;  and 
there  we  scrambled  up.  It  was  all  as  of  old,  away  up  in 
that  still,  solemn,  and  serene  world.  The  sound,  the 
almost  eternal  sound  of  ^^inds  in  the  lofty  tlr-toi)S,  above, 
around,  ])elow  you,  like  the  munmn-  of  the  surf,  went  on, 
us  if  wo  li.'ul  never  l>een  away  or  had  never  come.  Wo 
flew  around,  at  tirst,  for  a  good  place  for  wood  and  water. 
We  encamped  near  there,  down  on  the  west  side  of  a  height. 
in  a  delightful  fir  grove.  INIoss,  like  the  richest  cari)et, 
covered  the  rock  upon  which  we  Ituilt  our  fir-bough  house. 


:^'l 


Mn^' 


h  I 


212 


HAPHAZARD    PERSONALITIES. 


•  !i 


'I 


,(.  , 


i.  I 


■ 

i 

i 

There  we  iite,  cracked  our  jokes,  and  smoked ;  talked  of 
our  own  dear  friends,  the  past  and  future,  life  and  death, 
poetry  and  iniuiortality  ;  there  we  unit'jd  in  our  full,  rich 
service,  with  none  to  look  down  ujjon  us  but  the  solenui 
stars.  Once,  we  essayed  with  torch  to  ascend  the  sum- 
mit  and  see  the  moon  rise,  but  we  had  to  go  back ; 
torches,  to  see  the  moon  rise  on  tlie  very  scal])-lock  of 
the  chief  of  all  the  Catskills,  were  not  the  thing.  You 
see,  the  lir  forest  makes  an  everlasting  night  up  there,  at 
any  time  :  and  the  exceeding  chaos  of  the  surface,  although 
all  covered  with  a  living  carpet,  would  not  allow  of  our 
undertaking  bv  torchligiits  an  excursion  of  even  a  thou- 
sand  feet  .•  .  .  We  would  see  the  nun  rise,  at  any  rate. 
We  cliuibed  up  the  loftiest  of  those  steeple  trees,  the  fir, 
and  saw  all  creation.  You  should  liave  been  there  to  wit- 
ness the  scene,  and  then  fainted,  and  have  fallen  down 
headlong  in  despair  of  ever  seeing  such  another.  To  the 
east,  it  was  a  calm,  sununery  ocean  ;  to  the  west,  it  was  a 
Pacific  of  most  ex(piisite  mountains  ;  and  we  seemed  to 
be  in  the  very  centre  of  the  world,  with  a  bo.iudless  pau- 
oranui  all  around  the  horizon." 

In  184;5,  Mr.  Noble's  life  in  the  lowlands  of  North  Car- 
olina seemed  to  be  injuring  his  health,  and  in  a  letter, 
headed  ''  Durant's  Neck  Creation,"  occurs  this  great 
mixture  in  a  little  space  :  — 

"  I  am  going  to  cpiit  this  sickly  lowland.  It  is  killing 
my  youth.      O   Charley,  our  youth !     We    nmst   keen    it 

•-ft  ft      '  ft'  L 

around  the  heart.  I  am  here  for  a  Aveek.  This  is  a  point 
of  land  in  the  golden-watered,  golden-skied  ^Vlbemarle.  I 
am  quite  alone  ;  the  wind  blows  ;  the  waves  rip  and  tear 
their  ruffled  shirts  all  to  rags.  I  have  just  come  in  from 
a  long  cedar  point.  It  is  a  camping  out  of  old  cedars. 
They  have  concluded  to  stay  there  to  jdl  eternity.     They 


LOUIS   LEGRANl)   NOJiLii. 


213 


'hey 


have  made  themselves  into  a  big  church,  and  huni>:  thinj^s 
with  lonij,  silvery,  solemn  moss.  Such  moss  I  clouds  of 
it,  down  the  irreen  boughs.  Tliev  can  scarcely  breathe  or 
rustle  ;  it  holds  all  still,  while  Nature  goes  on  witii  her 
ceaseless  grace  over  the  dew,  ever  sparkling  upon  the 
undying  green  below." 

In  July,  1813,  j\Ir.  Noble  left  the  sea-coast  of  North 
Carolinn,  and  with  his  friends,  Kedney  and  Olnistead, 
yisited  the  mountains  in  the  Avestern  part  of  that  State  ; 
and  the  following  is  from  one  of  his  first  letters  from  that 
region,  which  he  siibsetpiently  celebrated  in  his  poem 
entitled  "  Angeline,"  and  which  it  was  my  own  privilege 
to  visit  and  describe  about  five  years  afterwards  :  — 

"  I  have  now  ridden  close  on  to  one  thousand  miles  in 
the  saddle  since  July.  You  have  no  idea  what  an  im- 
mense business  it  is  to  go  over  all  1  hnve  "one  over.  Day 
after  day  to  jog  on  in  a  weary  motion.  How  tired  and 
warm  you  get !  l>ut  oh,  the  magnificence  of  these  green, 
rich  Alleghanies  !  For  weeks,  now,  have  we  ])een  wind- 
inij  from  dark  and  shadowv  vale,  to  vale  dark  and  shad- 
owy.  Now  we  walk  side  by  side.  Now  we  trot  cheerfully 
along  the  vine-curtained  banks  of  crystal  rivers  small ;  then 
we  toil  up  and  up  and  far,  far  up  among  the  trees,  '  the 
high,  airy-top  '  trees  of  heaviest,  glossiest  polisli,  and  see 
thr()Ui»:h  the  boughs  the  big  earth,  blue  and  wide  as  the 
ocean,  mingling  with  clouds  and  sky.  Such,  and  a  thou- 
sand things  more  of  mountain  kind,  have  been  our  life 
so  long  that  I  wish  to  go  away  to  some  miserable,  sandy, 
sunny,  pine-barren  flat.  O  Charley !  you  should  go 
through  this  land.  Here  the  solemn  clond-heights  assem- 
ble in  one  still,  eternal  dance  ui)()n  the  vast  plain  between 
the  Atlantic  and  the  Mississii)pi.  And  while  you  stretch 
ftwav/  to  the  dim  peaks  that  specti'e  the  vast  airiuess  be- 


1 

;! 

'i 

r. 
M\ 

Il  » 


1 1     ! 


if- 


llw 


214 


IIA  ri  I AZ A  III  >    PEKSON ALITI ES . 


II  M' 


I  If^i 


yoiul  the  immense  circle,  of  which  3^oiir  summit  is  the 
centre,  the  eye  {ihvuys  at  hist  falls  into  the  line  of  niurch 
where  the  Blue  Ridge  ijjoes  dnrkly  trooping  from  the 
countless  assembly  of  pinnticli'S  away,  tivvay,  lil<e  giant 
ciunels  with  their  load  of  thunder-bags,  to  other  zones. 
And  then,  too,  such  horrid  precipices  as  one  can  sicken 
himself  upon,  are  a  sight  rugged  aiid  rare  for  i)ainter  and 
for  j)oet.  Sunny  vales,  too,  from  the  chaml)er  windows 
of  the  close  forests,  pour  upon  the  eye  big  hours  of  (piiet 
beauty.  Shady,  whispery  waterfalls  iill  your  ears,  ever 
and  anon,  and  dipi)e(l  in  every  hour  of  the  day,  from 
dawn  to  golden  eve,  from  eve  to  blackest  night,  and  round 
to  dawn  again,  curtain  the  elders  of  the  nmltitude  ever- 
more." 

In  tlu;  latter  part  of  IS  14  I  took  it  upon  myself  to 
give  Mr.  Noble  some  of  my  ideas  on  the  growing  follies, 
if  not  evils,  of  the  Kpisco})al  church,  and  the  tone  of  his 
reply  may  be  gathered  from  the  following  extract,  written 
from  Catskill :  — 

"  Yours  is  a  good  letter,  you  incorrigible  little  Presby- 
terian, von.  If  you  had  st)me  one  to  guide  von  into  the 
claims  of  the  church,  you  would  inevitably  fall  into  all  its 
beautv  and  truth.  Hut  J  give  vou  over.  ITnless  vou  will 
read  and  examine  our  standard  and  high  authorities  for 
yourself,  without  prejudice,  and  without  a  determination  to 
stick  to  men  because  you  hai)i)en  to  love  them,  you  will, 
of  course,  never  move  a  hair  from  where  vou  are.  You 
are  making  a  mistake,  Charley,  ((//  unworthy  of  your  heart, 
saying  nothing  of  your  head.  That  you,  with  your  appre- 
ciation of  truth  and  beautv,  should  be  content  to  settle 
down  behind  your  prejudices  and  not  be  happif  to  follow 
truth  where  it  leads  you,  though  it  led  to  Rome  itself,  I 
could   not  have   dreamed.     But  umeu.     Your  mind  will 


LOUIS   LEGRANl)   NOl'.LE. 


215 


only  be    the  sufferer  1)V  stiiviiiii;  in  the  l)!irreii  reijioii  of 
dissent.     1  sav,  Amen,  luuXfcd  a  little  mad." 

This  theological  breeze  lasted  through  several  letters, 
and  one  of  my  good  friend's   Inst  onshiughts  was  to  tliis 
effect :  "  You  know  nothing,  notliing  al)out  Puseyisni.     Do 
not   join   the   hue   and    the   cry  of    the   nuiny,    lest   yon 
be  found  in  company   with  those  of    whom  you  mav  1  e 
ashamed  one  day,  when  you   see    yourself   on   the   side 
opposite    to   splendid   genius,  learning,    and    holiness.     I 
know  (leeph/  some  of  Dr.  Pusey's  and  most  of  Mr.  New- 
man's writings.     AVe  shall  not  look  upon  more  wondrous 
pages,   very  soon,  than  those  of  Mr.  Newman.     Bisliop 
Onderdonk  is  a  gocxl  old  man.     He  has  been  imprudent, 
but  not  guilty.     Tho  cluircii  will  yet  destroy  the  power  of 
your  popular  heresies.     You   may  live  to  see  it.      I  wish 
you  would  do  me  the  favor  to  read  Mr.  Newman's  '  Ser- 
mons'  and   the  'Oxford   Tracts.'      Tlie  first  especially. 
They  will  add  lustre  to  yoiu*  mind,  though  they  sliould 
settle  your  heresies  deeper  in  3'our  soul."     And  again  :  '•  If 
you  ever  expect  to  make  a  great  painter,  you  will  hnve  to 
renounce  your  crude,  new-born  dissent,  and  embrace  the 
old  church.     There's  where  you  belong.     I  claim  you." 

When  the  above  was  written,  I  entertained  a  deep  and 
true  affection  for  the  Episcopal  church,  and  liave  been  a 
communicant  therein  f<^)r  more  than  tliirtv  years  ;  but  I 
grieve  to  say  that,  since  it  has  partially  le;»gued  itself  with 
foreign  heresies,  I  have  frequently  been  tempted  to  ]>id 
farewell  to  all  its  goodness.  Witli  regard  to  Newman's 
''Parochial  Sermons,"  I  have  rend  them  with  pleasure  and 
profit,  and  can  oidy  wonder  liow  skcJi  a  man  could  have 
Avandered  from  his  earlier  beliefs. 

n  who  did  more  than  any  other  to  mnke  Nol)le 


a  r 


The 
abid 


one  mai 
churchman  was  ilie  then  Professor  AMiittiniiham, 


li     t 


210 


IIArilAZARD   PERSONALITIES. 


;  ! 


■  r 


if 


and  he  was  earnestly  enojaa;ed  in  tliat  line  of  business,  as 
a  bishop,  through  all  tlie  intervening  years. 

In  the  old  days  alluded  to  above,  I  used  to  write  a  good 
deal   al)out  the  artists  ;   and,  because  of  some  opinions 
that  I  published  about  Thomas  Cole,   my   friend    Noble 
wrote  to  me  as  follows:  "You  do  Cole   real   injustice, 
lie  is  a  man  of  the  most  delicate   feelings  inuiginal)le, — 
a  sinijuhir  man  in  many  things.     I  think  I  never  knew  so 
modest  a  man  in  my  life,  who  has  his  right  to  be  ini- 
modest.     lie  moves  nmch  in  a  world  of  his  own  ;  medi- 
tates sublime  things,  which,  once  in  a  while,  he  uncovers 
for  a  moment ;  looks  forward  to  some  great  picture  which 
will  live  in  after  ages,  1)ut  which  there  is  not  love  of  art 
to  appreciate  now.     He  seems  not  at  all  pleased  by  usual 
newspaper  criticisms.     lie  has  his   faults,  I   know  ;    but 
they  are  as  little  understood  as  his  virtues.     As  to  his  n<jt 
painting  a  great  picture,  you  will  see.     He  may  not  paint 
as  popularly  as  heretofore  ;  but  that  will  arise  from  his 
painting  above  the  popular  i)ower  of  judging.     All  true 
genius  is  ever  beyond  the  eves  and  the  minds  of  the  many. 
Cole,  if  he  never  touches  pencil  again,  cannot  cease  to  be 
what  he  is,  —  a  poet  of  a  very  sul)lime  cast.     I  know  him 
better  than  any  other  man.     I  do  Hatter  myself  ;  and  I  do 
know  that  he  is  a  greater  painter,  to-dwj^  than  he  ever  was 
before.     You  will  all  see  this  to  be  the  truth.     I  am  only 
more  and  more   delighted  the  more  T  see  and  know  of 
him." 

I  was  never  one  whit  behind  Noble  in  my  admiration 
for  Cole,  as  a  man  and  an  artist;  and  his  "Life," 
from  the  pen  of  my  friend,  I  consider  a  very  charming 
volume  indeed,  highly  creditable  both  to  the  artist  and 
author. 

A  few  months  before  my  marriage,  in  1849,  Mr.  Noble 


LOUIS    LKGUAND    NtHJLK. 


217 


wrote  {I  betiutiful  letter  to  mv  intended  wife,  and  nl)oiit 
that  time  he  sent  me  the  following  little  prayer,  which  he 
said  was  for  a  "ood  man  at  any  time  :  — 

"Father, 
Thy  Providential  finger  point  his  way, 
And  ))lessings  drop  witli  each  returning  day  : 
Thy  pardon,  Lord,  for  Jesus'  salve  !  but  most, 
Give  him  the  guidance  of  the  Holy  Gliost. 

Amen." 

After  skipping  over  a  host  of  very  charming  letters, 
which  1  find  cannot  he  nuitilated,  and  are  too  personal  in 
their  character,  I  submit  the  following  written  bv  Mr. 
Noble  in  1852:  — 

"  Oh,  I  tell  vou,  I  am  champing  about  thinsjs  of  time  as 
I  gro'w  old  !  It  may  be,  and  doubtless  is,  because  my 
ministry  has  forced  me  into  its  fields,  and  out  of  that 
alluring  lield  of  poetic  letters  for  which  I  seemed  to  be 
made  nlmost.  Duties  have  carried  me  away  like  a  river 
stream  from  the  flowery  banks  of  my  inclinations.  Tliev 
are  changing  me  into  sometlung  else  than  what  1  should 
have  been  without  them.  It  will  no  doubt  be  mv  iov,  my 
thaidvfiiUest  thou<2:hts,  in  eternity.  How  relio-ion  crucifies 
thc^se  who  are  going  to  be  saved  !  How  it  makes  them  do 
what  thoy  secretly  do  not  want  to  do  !  How  it  makes  them 
give  up  poesy,  when  it  is  the  great  passion  of  the  soul ! 
How  it  sei)arates  them  from  those  they  would  most  like  io 
live  by  and  labor  with !  How  it  sets  them  down  amouij: 
the  uncongenial,  and  makes  them  write  on  paper  if  they 
would  even  talk  to  those  whose  bosoms  beat  in  haniKMiy  ! 
O  religion  !  O  crucifixion  of  man  !  Christ  himself  on 
the  cross  ;  man  on  the  crosses  of  relio-ious  diitv  ;  ri'liuious 
self-denials  !   ,   ,   .  But  you  cauuot  imagine  how  the  pas- 


mmmmm 


218 


IIArilAZARD   TERSONALITIES. 


III. 


•  I 


sion  for  Avriting  poems  never  dies  in  me.  The  more  I 
don't  write,  the  more  I  want  to.  I  have  the  most  com- 
plete faith  of  success,  should  I  turn  my  whole  soul  to  it. 
From  childhood  that  faith  has  grown.  I  never  feed  it.  T 
have  no  ambition  scarcely,  or  else  a  vast  ambition,  v,  ii 
you  see  how  that  is?  I  can.  I  pray  to  God  to  give  me 
this,  —  yes,  this  is  the  gift  I  ask  for,  the  grandest  gift  of 
heaven,  —  perfect  conquest  over  myself.  How  I  hope  for 
old  age.  I  want  to  sail  into  that  antique  sea,  and  eujoy 
the  (piietof  its  grand  and  solenm  scenery.  Ancient  forms 
are  there,  deep  waters,  calms,  shadows,  heavens  wliose 
reflections  have,  in  the  depths  below,  some  substantiality 
about  them.  God  give  us  old  age,  with  its  own  views  of 
human  life  and  human  suffering." 

'J'he  following,  taken  from  a  letter  written  at  C'atskill, 
in  April,  l^<')2,  is  charming  for  its  variety  :  "■  The  clock  is 
beating  twelve,  and  Tliedv  Cole  will  soon  come  into  his 
Latin ;  then  comes  dinner ;  and  then  footsteps  forth 
among  my  parishioners.  My  measure  is  heaped  up,  daily, 
with  like  business.  So  let  it  be  till  I  die.  1  ask  not  to 
l)e  a  man  of  leisure.  I  can  afford  to  wait  for  the  leisure 
of  heaven.  I  would  rather  be  a  saint  of  leisure  in  para- 
dise, than  a  gentleman  of  leisure  on  earth. 

"  Still  I  have  and  love  my  pleasures.  They  are  among 
mv  books  and  in  nature  mainlv.  Now  and  then  social,  as 
now  in  this  interchange  of  thought  with  vou.  There  is,  T 
see,  a  strong  savor  of  egotism  in  the  talk  above.  IIow 
we  love  to  show  ourselves  !  I  now  see  whv  I  alwavs  ad- 
mire  monkeys  and  peacocks.  In  their  antics  and  parade  T 
see  nmch  of  my  own  nature.  Here  comes  the  lad  of 
Latin  !  The  lad  of  Latin  has  gone.  So  has  the  dai/,  siwh 
a  day!  Such  days!  Yea,  such  n-eeks,  months  almost! 
Oh!    I  concentrate    a    heartv   groiui    in    that  oh!      I    re- 


LOUIS    LEGRAND   NOBLE. 


219 


pent  it,  oh  !  what  a  spring  !  Why,  sir,  the  allied  powers 
of  snow,  rain,  tempest,  eold,  and  clouds  have  niet  the 
liosts  of  spring  on  tlie  Catskills,  and  are  having  lierce, 
hard  fights.  They  are  the  Waterloo  of  the  elements. 
This  hour  sees  them  the  scene  of  cold  white  winter.  Such 
have  they  been  since  last  year.  My  little  Mary  wtis  look- 
ing  out  of  the  window  very  thoughtfully  the  other  day, 
when  she  said  to  her  motlier,  '  INfother,  I  remember  there 
were  leaves  once  on  the  trees.'  Poor  child,  how  long  it 
seems  !  I  hope  '  spring  will  come  quickly  up  this  way.' 
1  am  tired  of  burying  people  in  the  storm.  Oh,  for  sun- 
shine !  Last  Saturday  Avas  a  day  escaped  from  paradise. 
I  rushed  out,  took  off  my  coat,  went  to  work  Avith  hoe, 
spade,  and  pruning  knife,  got  into  a  sweat,  got  comph'tely 
tired  out,  and  preached  on  Sunday  (which  wan  a  day  con- 
victed of  crime  and  put  in  a  prison  of  clouds,  judging 
from  its  gloom),  like  a  very  poor  preacher.  I  nmst  now, 
for  a  time,  turn  to  my  sermon.  Now^  1  turn  from  that 
sermon,  in  which  I  have  been  laboring:  to  say  nmch  in  lit- 
tie.  That  is  hard  work,  you  know.  Little  in  much  is 
easy.     IIow  forcible  are  right  words  I  " 

Having  invited  Noble  to  go  with  me  upon  a  little  tour 
to  Lake  George,  he  thus  touched  upon  the  programme 
that  we  were  to  follow  :  "  And  now  about  that  delightful 
jaunt  up  to  Lake  George.  It  has  set  us  on  fire  ;  my  wife 
is  kindled.  Yes,  we  will  go.  Providence  giving  leave  and 
freedom.  .  .  .  We  will  stop  and  see  Kedney,  at  Saratoga, 
where  he  is  now  the  rector  of  the  church.  Won't  we  use 
him  up?  We  will  camp  out  in  his  parlor  and  lish  in  his 
cistern.  We  will  tap  his  vinegar,  and  eat  up  his  sour- 
crout.  Oh,  we  '11  have  a  season,  and  then  quit  him  for 
Hamilton's,  —  is  that  the  name  of  your  friend  on  the 
lake  ?      It 's  Alexander   Hamilton,  I    suppose.      He  has 


1  a 


220 


IIAniAZAllD  PERSONALITIES. 


I  I 


n  ^ 


:'i  ii  : 


lil 


gone  into  the  dairy  l)usiness  up  there  since  he  wrote  Wjisli- 
ington's  i)!ii)(>rs  all  np.  I  shall  be  glad  to  see  him,  — 
Sandy  was  always  a  good  fellow.  .  .  .  IJnt  if  we  are  well 
carried  and  companioned  on  onr  way  by  good  angels, 
shall  we  not  have  a  nice  time?  We  '11  have  some///n  too. 
We '11  go  back  to  boy-and-girl  times.  No  harm  in  being 
children,  I  gness  ;  more  in  not  being.  Bag  me  np  that 
man  or  woman  for  the  Bosphorus,  right  straight  off,  who 
has  lost  ont  of  life's  pockets  all  the  popcorn  of  child- 
hood." 

In  one  of  his  letters,  written  from  Glen's  Falls  in  18r)G, 
and  when  in  one  of  his  more  sericMis  moods,  he  tiiiis  ex- 
claims :  "  The  world  narrows  as  we  grow  older,  socially, 
and  widens  as  a  place  of  pilgrimage  and  troul)le  and  dis- 
appointment. I  imagine  the  rationale  of  this  is,  that  we 
carry  along  with  us  all  our  sad  recollections  and  the  re- 
membrances  of  sorrow  and  suffering,  the  sense  of  injured 
feelings  and  wounded  pride.  But  our  life  speeds.  \\\'  go. 
The  cars  of  life  Jlf/  along  the  track  !  By  faith  we  jire 
gettuig  glimpses  now  and  then,  through  the  thinning  for- 
ests of  eternity.  Let  us,  let  us  live  like  men,  not  like 
fools,  as  the  crowd  are  living.  What  scenes  of  desperate 
folly  and  crime  are  now  being  enacted  in  our  country ! 
My  God,  save  us  from  ourselves  !  A  war  flaming  and 
thundering  on  our  borders  seems  almost  the  only  thing  to 
save  us  from  the  sin  and  crime  and  fierceness  of  our- 
selves ! " 

From  a  letter  written  in  1857,  at  Fredonia,  I  cull  the 
followiui^ :  "I  am  truly  thankful  for  your  free  ex'jression 
as  to  the  unprofitableness  of  my  artistic  and  poetic  tastes. 
They  have  been  the  evil  genius  of  my  life.  But  I  am  less 
in  the  ways  of  art  and  poesy  than  you  suppose,  and  far 
more  a  plain,  plodding  workman  in  the  field  of  God.     X 


3 


LOUIS  LEGUAND  NOBLK. 


221 


am  no  more,  practically,  a  poet ;  I  have  scarcely  written 
poetry  for  years.  1  shall  most  lilvely  write  no  more.  I 
road  a  litle  Spenser  and  jNIilton.  I  read  some  of  Spenser 
to  a  Bufftdo  clergyman  the  other  evening,  '  Una  and  lier 
Lamb,'  and  he  went  to  sleep  and  snored.  lie  was  right. 
.  .  .  The  poetic,  artistic  life  is  behind  nie  ;  a  more  sim})le 
woi'k-life  is  around  and  before  me.  I  am  in  lieart  for  tiie 
great  work  of  God,  —  over  which  I  have  nodded  as  the 
clergyman  did  over  the  poetry.  .  .  .  As  you  say,  in  your 
letter,  we  have  been  fricuids  nearlv  twentv  vears.  Long 
time  in  this  brief  and  changing  world.  Let  us,  l)y  all 
means,  now  cherish  this  friendship  to  the  end.  Be  true  to 
each  other,  —  loving  to  the  last.  I  am,  I  trust,  wiser  and 
l)etter  tlian  in  the  beginning  of  our  days.  And  so  are 
you.  We  cannot  well  afford  to  ptirt,  at  this  advanced 
point  of  our  journey.     It  would  be  poor  economy." 

The  above  was  written  in  1857,  and  I  am  writing  this 
in  1882,  so  that  our  friendship  lasted  forty-four  years. 

Soon  after  the  war  for  the  Union  had  fairly  connnenced 
in  18G1,  Mr.  Noble,  who  had  spent  so  many  happy  days 
in  the  South,  wrote  to  me  in  a  most  des[)onding  mood. 
On  one  occasion  he  savs  :  "I  have  iust  come  home  from 
the  baptism  of  a  dying  child.  Would  I  had  died  in  child- 
hood also.  Not  that  I  am  particularly  unhappy  ;  but  I 
would  rather  have  had  each  of  mv  passing  vears  in  lieaven 
than  on  earth.  Who  would  go  back  for  the  few  straws  of 
happiness  that  have  dropped  upon  his  path?  Who  would 
reverse  his  life  and  walk  right  back  on  the  same  old  track, 
meeting  nothing  but  his  old  experience  until  he  tumbled 
into  his  cradle?  I  have  seen  about  enough  of  this,  my 
native  planet.  Hard  times  make  a  lean  salary  and  an 
anxious  spirit.     Let  me  go  forward." 

I  give  the  above  for  its  originality,  and  not  because  I 


222 


IIAI'UAZAIID    rEIiaONA LITIKS. 


H  I 

in 


M 


Si'- 


I  I 


Htiiu'tioii  any  snch  nnniJinly  philosopliy.  My  frioncl  here 
forgot  liinisclf,  luul,  :\s  I  i)rol);i]»ly  nnswerod  sit  the  time, 
no  honest  Christian  nnin  has  any  business  to  talk  after 
this  manner. 

In  18(!(J  lie  made  a  sunnner  tour  throiij^h  New  lirnns- 
wick  and  Cniiada,  over  one  of  my  own  l)eaten  routes,  and 
tliis  was  his  first  rei)ort  on  reaching  home  :  "  Had  a  fine 
time.  Went  tlie  complete  round.  Came  out  on  the  St. 
Lawrence  at  JNIetis.  There  is  a  line  road  now  from 
Frazer's,  along  the  Matapedia.  We  caught  salmon  and 
trout  in  the  Nepisiquit,  at  the  eiuiin  of  rocks  and  tiie 
Grand  Falls.  Had  your  old  canoe-men, — the  Chamber- 
lains.  'I'hev  all  remember  you,  —  said  you  were  a  splen- 
did fisherman.  To  throw  a  fiy  for  snlmon  Avell  is  tlie  art 
of  few  fishermen.  I  cannot  do  it.  We  cume  home  ])V 
Quebec  and  tlie  White  ^Mountains.  Iljid  a  splendid  sun- 
set and  sunrise  on  Mount  Washington.  But,  after  all, 
you  must  hnve  had  the  best  of  it.  T  prefer  a  more  quiet 
life  than  the  one  we  have  had.  Black  flies,  rain,  leaky 
tents,  and  all  that ;  a  great  deal  of  rain.  That  kills 
one's  pleasure." 

In  1^(57  he  wanted  me  to  make  him  a  visit  in  New  Jer- 
sey, and  this  was  his  way  of  tempting  me:  ''Hold  a 
council  of  war  ;  have  a  h)ng  talk  ;  light  your  pipes  at 
your  weekwaum's  flame,  and  resolve.  Paint  up  your 
faces  ;  sing  your  big  war  song,  and  dance  your  most  com- 
plicated dance.  Shake  all  the  scalps  and  tro})hies  of  i)ast 
conquests,  at^hieved  on  the  bloodless  p;ith  of  travel,  and 
decide.  And  look  ve,  —  decide  on  a  visit  to  the  lodire  of 
this  Chemokeman,  with  your  squaw.  This  here  Ne-she- 
nam-bam  and  his  squaw  desire  to  minister  their  biggest 
bowl  of  succotash  to  their  brother  and  sister  of  the  Great 
Totomac." 


LOUIS    LK(JUANI>   NOBLE. 


223 


Here  is  a  bit  of  nonsense,  betiring  npon  a  solemn 
truth  :  — 

"  1  do  not  know  wh:it  to  nay  more.  Sui)p(>s(«  \  write  a 
'  composition  '  on  miils.  Nails  are  y;oo(l.  Yon  can  lianir 
up  smoked  ])eef  on  nails.  'IMiev  are  <i;oo(l  to  build  Ikmiscs 
with.  They  i)ut  them  in  the  heels  of  boots.  AVe  could 
not  live  without  nails.  Some  people  luive  long  nails,  and 
dig  into  their  heads  and  other  things.  I  once  got  a  nail 
into  mv  foot.  A  woman  ojiee  killed  a  man  with  a  nail, 
in  the  IJible.  He  was  ji  general.  Therefore  nails  are 
good.  Look  over  the  papers.  I'll  be  bound  if  nineteen 
twentieths  of  what  you  see  there  is  not  about  as  weighty 
as  this  nail  comi)osition." 

In  18(!!l,  Mr.  Noble's  daughter  made  ns  a  visit  in  George- 
town. She  was  a  beautiful,  bright,  and  good  girl,  and 
fond  of  a  little  gavetv.  Feariny;  that  she  was  jj-oiuo-  to 
too  many  parties,  he  became  troubled,  and  wrote  a  savage 
letter  on  the  subject  of  fashionable  life,  from  which  I  cojn' 
the  foUowing  :  '' l>ut  a  round  of  nightly  routs  is  miser- 
able. All  nonsense,  this  perpetual  dancung  ;  and  all  wrong, 
these  fops  and  beaux.  A  man  needs  a  purse  as  long  as 
a  hose,  and  tilled,  too,  wntli  money  to  keep  a  young  Miss 
Sillv  in  rig  for  tomfool  tlatterers.  We  know  there  is  not 
the  virtue  of  air  in  the  talk  and  praise  of  yonng  fellows. 
I  do  l)elieve  women  are  half  idiots.  1  like  fun  and  frolic  ; 
but  just  look  at  the  solemn,  and  often  distressed  faces  of 
i'.iese  decorated  asses  while  dancing.  See  their  red  pig- 
visages,  as  they  whirl  in  waltzes  and  get  dizzy.  IJah  ! 
No  wonder  the  nation  is  going  to  the  dogs,  when  fashion, 
folly,  and  extravagance  reign.  I  have  no  respect  for 
such  a  government  and  country  as  ours.  I  would  get 
out  of  it,  if  I  could,  and  live  in  Turkey  among  grave  peo- 
ple.    Pretty  women  for  wives,  —  these  dancing  trollops. 


?!    '•* 


f 

V 

1 

! 

I 

1';. 


.11. 1. 


\ 


f! 


i: 

1    ■ 

fin 

I: 

1     •■ 

224 


IIAPIIAZART)   PERSONALITIES. 


Nice  men  for  husbands,  —  these  wliirling,  inonoy-spon(lin<^ 
monkeys  !  IIuni])Uj^  this  l)()jiste(l  American  people.  Africa 
will  i^ive  as  many  saints  to  heaven  as  the  I'niteu  States  of 
America.  Well,  I  mean  to  spend  my  days  in  ahusino'  such 
a  land,  and  will  find  a  deal  of  satisfaction  in  doinj;"  it." 

In  1871,  Mr.  Noble  lost  his  lovely  dau^htiT,  and  his  let- 
ters on  that  sad  event,  thou<!;h  very  ])eautiful,  are  too  sacred 
to  submit  to  stranoer  eves.      He  had  lost   his  only  son 

O  4-  ft. 

many  years  before,  and  he  was  nearly  overwhelmed  by  his 
great  sorrow.  The  l)urden  of  his  prayer  was,  ''  (Jod  help 
us  home  to  heaven." 

As  time  passed  on,  my  friend  and  I  arranged  to  visit  the 
Centennial  Exhibition  together  in  187C,  but  we  weri;  dis- 
appointed. His  letters,  written  to  me  in  l^<77,  had  not 
the  snap  of  the  old  time  ;  and  the  feeling  seems  to  have 
settled  upon  our  souls  that  we  were  both  passing  into  the 
evening  of  our  lives.  In  the  sunnner  of  that  year  1  })aid 
him  a  visit  at  Annandale,  N.  Y.,  with  my  wife  and  .Jap- 
anese ward,  and  we  ran  over  again  the  story  of  our  lives, 
and  enjoyed  ourselves  as  only  men  can  who  appreciate  the 
beauties  of  this  world  and  hope  to  live  together  in  a  hap- 
pier world  in  the  presence  of  their  Redeemer. 

In  February,  1878,  he  communicated  to  me  the  sad  news 
that  his  wife  —  a  moot  charming  Christian  lady  —  \vas 
ill ;  and  then  he  proceeds  :  "  1  should  be  delighted  to  have 
you  close  by  me.  We  are  of  those  who  never  grow  old  in 
spirit.  Just  as  young  and  as  frolicsome  as  ever.  We  are 
more,  because  we  carry  the  jovial  soul  into  the  shade  of 
life,  and  make  loud  merriment  on  those  slopes  of  time 
where  most  men  grow  sour  and  spiritless.  Thus  let  youth 
go  hand  in  hand  with  age  to  the  solenm  end."  Also,  in 
the  same  letter,  after  alluding  to  the  death  of  one  of 
my  own  friends,  he  says  ;  — 


LOUTS   LEORANP   NOBLR. 


22r) 


"  T  nni  sorry  tluit  you  luivo  lost  a  dear  friend  and  rela- 
tive. 'I'iu'se  partings  of  conipimy  witli  the  dear  ones  are 
Had  for  those  wlio  Mtill  liii<:;er  in  tlie  Htorniy  paths  of  earth. 
One  sorrows  to  find  the  count  jjjrow  Hinnller  us  the  jj^roup 
toils  on.  Ah)ne  we  go  down  into  the  Hej)uh*iue  ;  j»;lo- 
rious  if,  with  Peter,  we  find  the  raiment  of  our  Lord  to 
lie  down  upon." 

l)urin<2;  the  month  of  April,  Mrs.  Noble  was  taken  to 
New  York  City  and  went  throui>h  the  trial  of  a  sur<»:i('al 
()l)eration.  In  a  note,  written  to  ine  a  few  hours  after- 
wards, deseril)in<jj  wliat  lisid  happened  and  expressintj  his 
anxious  hopes,  Mr.  No])le  says:  "On  the  whoU\  'life  is 
thoiny  '  for  man  or  woman.  Death  is  the  last  and  tlwj 
louii;  thorn  that  i)ierees  (piite  throu<>h.  After  that  nt 
mor(>  thorns.  AV'hat  a  sti'ange  experience  is  this  hinnai. 
life  here  !  Wliat  does  it  all  mean?  AV^hat  are  the  pur- 
poses of  God, — all  wise  and  all  good?  He  will  himself 
tell  l)y  and  by."  Uut  Mrs.  Noble  did  not  recover,  and  in 
one  of  her  husband's  subsequent  letters  he  wrote  these 
words:  "My  dear  wife's  remains  sleep  by  the  side  of 
Louis  and  Marv  in  the  oravevard  of  Catskill,  and  her 
Spirit  is  iu  the  blessed  rest  of  (iod,  rejoicing  in  eternal 
light.  .  .  .  All  has  been  to  me  like  Avandering  through  a 
strange  dark  dream.  ...  I  am  out  in  i  driving  snow- 
storm and  very  poorly  clad." 

In  that  last  sentence,  we  see  the  evidences  of  a  broken 
heart ;  and  it  were  better,  for  many  reasons,  that  the  cur- 
tain should  now  fall  upon  the  life  of  my  long-loved  friend. 
He  subsecpiently  re-entered  the  pulpit,  was  settled  at 
Ionia,  ill  Michigan,  the  region  where  he  had  spent  his  boy- 
hood. He  died  at  that  i)lace,  in  February,  1882,  and  was 
buried  by  the  side  of  his  wife  and  children  at  Catskill,  in 
the  shadow  of  the  mountains  he  so  dearly  loved. 
15 


I!    M 


M 


22G  HAPHAZARD   PERSONALITIES. 


WILLIAM   B.   SPRAGUE. 

A  GOOD  and  a  gront  man!  Born  in  1705,  and  died 
in  187(1,  leaving  to  his  country  a  spotless  name.  His 
'*  Lectures  to  Young  People"  was  one  of  the  first  books 
tiijit  led  me  to  think  of  the  importance  of  true  religion  ; 
juul  fnmi  the  year  1886  until  his  denth,  I  followed  his 
splendid  career  with  interest,  and  ever  felt  for  him  a  sin- 
cere affection. 

In  180;"),  for  some  reason  that  I  have  now  forgotten,  I 
sent  him  an  article  which  I  had  written  about  the  charming 
village  of  Stratford  in  Connecticut ;  and  the  following 
note  came  to  me  in  return  :  — 


' 


Alhany,  11  November,  1805. 

My  dear  Sir,  —  I  thank  you  for  your  kind  note,  and 
for  the  accompanying  very  interesting  sketch  of  Stratford, 
which  1  shall  add  to  a  pretty  huge  collection  of  materials 
for  some  future  historian  of  our  countrv. 

1  am  gratified,  of  course,  by  your  kind  rememl)rances  of 
me,  and  espe(  iallv  bv  the  intimation  that  anvthino;  1  have 
ever  said  or  written  has  been  of  the  least  service  to  vou. 
I  take  it  for  granted  vou  are  the  author  of  the  Couiires- 
sional  l)iographies,  and  until  this  time  I  supposed  you 
were  my  contemporary  in  college,  having  graduated  in 
1814  ;  l)ut,  on  referrino-  t()  vour  letter  and  the  book,  I  (ind 
that  your  name  is  without  the  J.  which  belonged  to  the 
INIr.  Lanman  whom  I  knew.  lie  Avas  from  Norwich,  and 
the  son  of  a  very  eminent  lawyer.  I  am,  in^^  dear  sir,  with 
great  rega"d, 

Very  sincerely  yours, 

W.  B.  SrRA(jrE. 


WILLIAM   B.    SPRAGUE. 


227 


lis 


The  persons  here  alluded  to  were  my  father  and  grand- 
fntlior. 

The  collection  of  autographs  which  was  made  by  this 
eniineiit  man  was  pc'ih:4)s  unsurpassed  hy  any  other  in  the 
country  ;  and  its  historical  vahie  was  probably  greatly 
enhanced  by  his  acquisitions  during  the  time  that  he  was 
writing  his  "  Annnls  of  thi'  Americtin  Ti'lpit."  In  1807 
he  made  an  apjx^al  to  me  to  holp  him  in  filling  up  some 
gaps  in  his  "  List  of  Letters  by  rromineut  Politicians"; 
and  I  forthwith  forwarded  to  him  those  he  wanted,  when 
he  acknowledged  their  receipt  as  follows  :  — 

Albany,  1  July,  1S()7. 

My  dear  Si)\  —  I  am  greatly  obliged  to   you    for    the 

autograph  letter  of    Secretary  ])rowning,  as  well   as  the 

hoi)e  which  your  kindness  awnkenc,  tliMt  you  may  possibly, 

at  some   future  time,   send   me  a  letter  of   the  :»ttorney- 

ffeneral.     From  wlint  you  sav  of  haviuix  been   in  a  llible 

class  under  .Air.   lUitler,  in   Dr.   Skinner's  church.  I  infer 

that  I  have  misjudged  in  supposing  that  you  wen^  identical 

with  the  person  of  vour  name  who  was  one  venr  before  me 

in  Yale  College.     I  doubt  not,  however,  that  you  are  of 

the  same  family  ;  and,  if  so,  I  have  had  the  plensure  of 

knowing  several  of  your  relatives.     With  great  regard, 

I  am  very  truly  yours, 

AV.  Vi.  SruA<irE. 

These  are  mere  trifles,  T  know  ;  but  nuy  memento  of 
such  a  mnn  has  a  value  of  its  own  ;  :ni<l  this  i)Mr:igrMpli 
will  not  Imvc  been  writti'u  in  vniu  if  the  render  (who  Iims 
not  seen  it)  will  only  obtain  and  read  the  tribute  to  the 
memory  of  AVillinm  ]>.  Sprngue  which  was  printed  in  the 
New  York  Ohspi'ver,  by  the  devoted  friend  of  the  departed, 
S.  Irenajus  Prime. 


II: 
I 


228 


HAPHAZARD   PERSONALITIES. 


WILLIAM  JERDAN  AND  WASHINGTON  IRVING. 


m 


Any  event  that  has  a  tendency  to  recall  the  presence 
and  ehai'ininsc  character  of  AVashin«»ton  Irvino;  ouoht  not 
to  be  nnheeded  ;  and  the  death  of  AVilliani  Jerdan  is  par- 
ticularly suggestive  on  that  score.  The  latter  was  born 
in  Scotland,  in  17<S2,  one  year  before  tlie  former,  and 
died  in  London,  in  ISGO,  aged  eighty-seven  years.  His 
career  of  thirty-five  years  as  editor  of  the  Literary  Gazette^ 
his  long-continued  and  intimate  association  with  the  litera- 
ture of  Eniiland  for  more  than  half  a  centurv,  and  his 
highly  interesting  autol)iograp]iy,  are  quite  sullicient  to 
give  him  a  high  rank  among  the  men  of  the  time  ;  but  we 
Americans  must  alwavs  venerate  his  memory  for  having 
been  the  tlrst  to  introduce  the  pai)ers  of  the  "  Sketch 
Book  "  to  the  pn])lic.  The  writer  of  tiiis  notice  had  it  from 
]Mr.  L'ving's  own  lips,  that  such  was  the  case  ;  that  the 
idea  of  collecting  them  in  a  volume  came  from  the  same 
source,  and  that  he  alwavs  remembered  the  editor  as  one 
of  his  earliest  and  best  friends.  And  here  is  what  he 
says  on  the  subject  in  the  revised  edition  of  the  '•  Sketch 
Book  "  itself  :  — 

"  Some  attention  had  been  called  to  it  by  the  extracts 
which  had  previously  appeared  in  the  Literary  Gazette, 
and  by  the  kind  word  spoken  by  the  editor  of  that  i)erio(li- 
cal,  and  it  was  getting  into  fair  circulation  when  mv 
worthy  bookseller  faile<l." 

In  a  note  to  Mr.  Jerdan  himself,  he  also  wrote  as  fol- 
lows :  — 

"The  authoi'  of  the  'Sketch  Book'  caimot  but  feel 
liiirhlv  flattered  that  his  essays  should  be  deeUicd  worthy 
of  insertion  in  so  elegant  and  polit*   a,  misctlhiny  as  the 


'.ill 


WILLIAM  JERDAN   AND   WASHINGTON   HIVING. 


229 


•h 


nv 


)1- 


H 


1 

he 


Literary  Gazette.  A  corrected  and  modified  edition  of 
the  work  is  about  to  be  republished  in  this  country, 
whicli  lie  barely  mentions,  nnd  leaves  it  to  the  more 
experienced  judgment  of  the  editor  to  determine  how 
far  the  extracts  may  be  made  witiiout  anticipating  and 
injuring  the  collective  republication  of  the  work.  At 
the  same  time,  he  begs  leave  to  add  his  conviction,  that 
he  could  not  have  had  a  ])etter  introduction  to  fashi(^n- 
able  notice  than  the  favorable  countenance  of  the  Literary 
G<(Z"tfe." 

Jn  his  autobiography,  ^h\  Jerdan,  after  speaking  of 
INIr.  Irving  as  the  most  charming  of  American  authors, 
proceeds  as  follows  :  — 

'sSuch  things  belong  to  the  most  gratefid  incidents  of 
mv  literary  life.  No  doultt,  without  mv  aid,  the  beautiful 
American  canoe  would  soon  have  been  safely  launched  on 
the  British  waters;  but,  as  it  was.  I  had  tlie  pleasure  and 
honor  to  launch  it  at  once,  fill  the  sails,  and  send  it  on  its 
prosperous  voyage.  I  never  enjoyed  so  much  of  Irving's 
society  as  I  wished  ;  but  have  liad  the  gratification  of  see- 
ing  him  at  my  table,  with  such  associates  as  tlie  liulwers, 
Edward  and  Henry  II.  Ellis,  Moore,  and  others  of  the  same 
proud  literary  raiik=" 

]Many  3'ears  ago,  M'hile  upon  a  salmon  expedition  tlirougli 
Northern  New  Brunswick,  I  stuml»led  upon  a  very  inteivst- 
and  curious  character,  named  IJobert  Egar,  whom  I  de- 
scribed at  the  time  as  "  Tiie  Hermit  of  Aroostook."  He 
was  the  brother-in-law  of  AVilliam  Jerdan,  who  had  mar- 
ried his  sister.  As  the  noted  editor  iiad  l)eeii  very  kind 
in  revTcvying  one  or  two  volumes  from  my  pen,  I  sent  him 
a  copy  of  the  "  Hermit"  article,  witli  inquiries  respecting 
some  other  matters ;  and,  in  due  time,  I  receivetl  the  sub- 
joined letter :  — 


i! 


230 


IIArilAZAUl)    PKUSONALITIES. 


iPi 


111 


London,  27  September,  1847. 

3ft/  dear  Sir,  —  I  was  nnicli  orjitiiicti  by  ^'oiirs  of  the 
2()th  of  'Inly,  and  have  l)ee)i  very  much  gratified  by  the 
perusal  of  your  new  book,  which  would  have  ])eeii  reviewed 
in  the  Gazette  three  weeks  nii(),  ])ut  for  uiy  liaviug  gone 
into  a  continuation  of  '•  Pmixms  on  the  Red  Indian  Mytliol- 
ogy,"  and  wishing  yours  to  wind  \\\)  witli  eclat.  It  will 
appenr  next  Saturchiy  or  Stiturdny  after. 

J  will  with  pleasure  negotiate  an  arrangement  with  a 
London  pul»lisher  for  your  next  production.  J  iiope  the 
notice  of  the  last  will  facilitate  that  process,  and  be  to 
your  advantage. 

A  friend  of  niine,  Mr.  (iranby  Calcraft,  has  l»een  ap- 
pointed IL  B.  I\L  packet  agent  for  New  York  ;  and,  if 
you  will  call  u\)(m  him  in  my  name,  1  am  sure  he  will 
expedite  any  intercourse  between  us.  I  shall  write  to 
him  by  the  same  post,  so  that  you  may  probably  see  him. 

I  shall  always  ])e  happv  to  hear  from  you. 

Robert  Egar  is  a  strange  ])it  of  character,  and  I  hardly 
knew  what  had  become  of  him.  lie  once  bought  me  an 
allotment  of  land  in  New  Brunswick,  and  I  don't  know 
what  ])ecame  of  that ! 

1  shall  feel  nmch  <d)liged  by  anvthing  you  can  do  to  oi'o- 
mote  the  Literary  Gazette  in  the  States,  and  will,  as  you 
say,  •'  reciprocate"  in  the  cause  of  the  Express. 

Assuring  you  of  my  kind  regards,  I  am,  my  dear  sir. 

Yours  faithfully, 

"W.  Jerdan. 

From  the  above  note,  my  good  friends  of  the  Express 
will  perceive  that,  in  the  good  old  times  when  I  was 
connected  with  their  otlice,  very  many  years  ago,  I  was 


JOHN    110\VA1M>    I'AVNE. 


231 


not  iininiiidful  of  their  interests.  And  what  wonderful 
changes  have  taken  phiee  in  New  York  during  that  period  ! 
Its  no])le  citizens,  Avho  laid  deep  and  l)road  the  foundations 
of  its  prosperity,  iiave  passed  away  by  tlie  Innidred  ;  and 
the  story  of  its  success,  as  a  conunercial  mart,  is  allied  to 
those  visionary  tales  of  industry  and  opulence  which  have 
come  to  us  from  the  far  East.  The  manner  in  which  th:i 
city  of  New  York  has  fostered  the  fourth  estate  must 
ever  be  remembered  with  peculiar  satisfaction  ;  and  the 
Gothamite  of  to-day  may  point  to  the  E.rjrrcs.s,  the  Even- 
ing Post,  the  Journal  of  Commerce,  the  Herald,  the  Com- 
mercial Advertiser,  the  Tribune,  and  the  Times,  in  spite 
of  their  multifarious  and  useless  politics,  and  safely  assert 
that  no  other  seven  journals  in  the  world  have  exerted 
such  a  widespread  inrtuence  througlujut  all  its  borders. 
Jf,  however,  we  were  called  upon  to  mention  the  one 
particular  man  who,  by  liis  pen,  has  done  more  than  all 
others  to  give  New  York  its  ])rilliant  I'ejmtation,  we  should 
be  compelled,  and  all  men  would  acquiesce,  to  write  the 
name  of  Washington  Irving. 


JOHN   IIOWAIM)   TAYNE. 

"When  the  poet  of  "Sweet  Home"  was  sojourning  in 
Washington,  after  his  recall  as  consul-general  to  Tunis, 
and  before  his  reappointment  to  the  same  position,  it  was 
my  privilege  to  see  him  frequently.  He  had  been  ])adly 
treated  by  JMr.  INIarcy  and  Mr.  Clayton,  both  of  whom 
had  promised  their  infhience  for  his  reinstatement ;  and  it 
remained  for  ^Nlr.  Webster,  in  LSol,  to  recognize  his  high 
character,  and  secure  his  return  to  Tunis.  The  eras  of 
his  strange  life,  upon  which  I  mostly  desired  to  hear  him 


i 


232 


IIAniAZARD    PERSONALITIES. 


K 


cou verse,  were  tliose  connected  with  his  '^  Ixniiood's  lionie," 
where  his  fatlier  had  heen  a  schoolnitister,  at  East  TTanip- 
ton,  Long  Ishiiid,  and  his  adventures  among  the  Indians 
of  North  Carolina.  For  the  former  })hK'e  lie  manifested 
the  warmest  affection,  ])ut  lie  left  it  while  yet  a  mere  child 
and  returned  to  New  York  Citv,  where  he  was  born.  One 
incident  connected  with  his  life,  which,  I  believe,  has 
never  been  published,  w^as  to  tliis  effect :  He  went  to  the 
South,  in  a  semi-ollicial  capacity,  when  there  Avas  nuicli 
excitement  in  regard  to  the  removal  of  the  Cherokees,  and 
as  might  have  been  expected,  he  espoused  the  cause  of 
the  Indians,  so  far,  at  least,  as  his  sympathies  could 
go.  The  result  was,  that  he  gave  gretit  offence  to  a 
squad  of  roaming  "  (ieorgia  crackers,"  who  liad  dechired 
their  hostilitv  to  the  Indians.  Thev  arrested  him,  and 
kept  him  for  several  days  as  a  prisoner ;  and,  one  night, 
when  housed  in  a  h)g-cabin,  thev  held  a  carouse  and 
anmsed  themselves  bv  sinuing  songs.  One  of  tlie  sonus 
thev  sanii'  was  "  Sweet  Home,"  and  wheii  thev  had  finished 
it,  they  asked  tlie  prisoner  wliat  he  thought  of  tiie 
music.  He  said,  in  reply,  tliat  when  he  wrote  tiiat  song 
he  never  expected  to  hear  it  sung  under  sucli  peculiar 
circumstances.  The  "crackers"  were  astonished,  and 
seei'ned  inclined  to  doubt  his  words  ;  but  they  soon  be- 
came convinced  of  the  asserted  fact,  and  with  great 
gusto  applauded  the  unknown  poet,  and  forthwith  told 
him  that  he  was  a  free  man,  and  that  they  would  forever 
be  his  friends  through  thick  and  thin,  and  that  if  he 
should  happen  to  get  into  trouble,  he  might  count  upon 
their  sympathy  and  help. 

AYhen  Mr.  Payne  was  last  in  Washington,  I  was  a  fre- 
quent writer  for  the  National  InieU'i(jenc('i\  and  that  fact 
will  explain  the  following  letter  which  I  received  ;  — 


JOHN   HOWARD    I'AYNK. 


233 


11 


■\Vasiiixgton,  Jan.  26,  ISoO. 

My  dear  Sii\  —  Enclosed  are  the  lines  wliicli  I  si)okc 
of,  with  11  roij<»;h  caption,  M'liich  your  genius  may  lick  into 
presentable  shape.  It  is  essentiul  that  it  appear  as 
editorial.  Miss  Lynch  was  in  a  great  hurrv  when  she 
gave  me  the  paper,  and  she  made  one  or  two  corrections. 
Slie  desired  me  to  examine  the  lines  and  the  proof  care- 
fully, and  to  see  to  the  pointing  and  any  further  blunders 
which  she  might  have  overlooked.  I  am  uncertain  about 
the  line, 

"  My  tomb!  then  from  its  door  erelong," 
whether 

"  My  tomb !  when  from  its  door  erelong," 

has  not  been  intended.     I  leave  this  to  your  sagacitv. 

AVill  you  have  the  goodness,  when  the  piece  appears,  to 
send  me  one  copy,  and  six  to  Miss  Lynch  ;  for  all  of  which 
I  will  pay  you  wheu  we  meet,  which  I  hope  may  be 
speedily  ?  Yours  most  truly, 

Joiix  IIoAVAiiD  Payne. 

The  subject  of  the  poem  here  mentioned  had  entirely 
escai)ed  my  memory  ;  l)ut  1  subsequently  heard  from  Ah-s. 
Anna  C.  L.  Botta  that  it  was  entitled  "  Nightfall  in  Ilun- 
gary,"  and  was  ])ublished  in  IHf)!  instead  of  l<sr)().  The 
interest  manifested  by  Mr.  Payne  for  ]Miss  Lynch  was  in- 
teresting, and  f(n'  one  reason  seemed  to  me  especially 
well  deserved.  I  had  formed  the  ac(piaintance  of  this 
lady  during  my  residence  in  New  York,  and  a  note  which 
she  sent  to  me,  in  1847,  was  to  this  effect :  — 

St'xday  :m()kn.  . 

Mr.  Lanman,  — Will  you  announce  through  tb.e  Express 
and  Post,  to-morrow   morning,  that   Mr.  Giles's   lecture 


i\  :■  '■ 


II 


2U 


IlAl'HAZARI)    TKUSONALITIKS. 


Xl^ 


t:i1<t'H  plnco  ill  the  t'voiiin^?  Ills  first  Icctiiro  wiis  rojilly 
ndiiiinihie.  I  roi'rcttod  tluit  you  were  not  there  to  lienr  it 
There  were  not  niaiiv  tliere,  and  he  reallv  slionld  have  a 
hearing',  whieli  is  all  lie  requires  to  i)e  api)iveiated.  You 
editors,  who  have  tlie  important  nilssion  of  telllnii;  the 
publle  what  to  like  and  what  not  to,  must  do  your  duty. 
Excuse  this  liberty.  T  hojje  to  see  you  next  Saturday 
evening.     I  expect  some  pleasant  peo})le  here. 

Anne  C.  Lynch. 

The  lectures  delivered  by  Mr.  Giles,  in  New  York  (If  I 
inav  wander  out  of  mv  way  a  little),  were  truly  admii'able  ; 
but  one  that  he  had  previously  delivered  in  St.  Louis, /or 
my  special  heiir/it,  was  beyond  all  praise,  and  this  was  tla; 
way  it  liapi)ened  :  It  was  in  1<S4(),  and  while  on  my  way  to 
the  I'pper  Mississippi,  T  had  made  a  halt  at  the  rianters' 
Hotel  in  St.  Louis.  It  was  Sunday  evening,  and  near  the 
hotel  stood  a  church,  into  which  I  strolled  to  hear  a  ser- 
mon. The  preacher  was  Henry  (liles,  and  having  caught 
my  eye,  when  he  stepped  down  fn^m  the  i)ulpit,  he  came 
forward  to  speak  to  me,  introduced  me  to  some  i)leasant 
ladies,  who  had  accompanied  him  to  church,  and  then 
went  with  me  to  the  hotel.  Over  a  glass  of  wine  we 
commenced  a  (piiet  conversation,  which  was  soon  con- 
ducted entirely  by  himself  ;  and  then  was  delivered  the 
lecture  already  mentioned.  It  was  on  every  possi])le  topic, 
from  the  religion  of  the  Bible  to  those  of  IMahomet  and 
Joe  Smith,  and  from  the  poetry  of  Shakespeare  down  to 
that  of  George  P.  iMorris,  and  lasted  until  near  daybreak, 
and,  taken  as  a  whole,  was  the  most  wonderful  talk  I  ever 
enjoyed.  ,  —  -.; 

But  to  return  to  my  poet  friend. 

Mr.  Payne's  style  of  conversation  was  less  weird  and 


li.li 


JOHN    IIOVVAKI)   TAYNE. 


2o5 


>ic, 

to 
tik. 


niul 


fascinatiii;j:  tluui  tliat  of  "hlv.  (JiU'S,  but  it  w;»s  di'lliilitful 
iiud  iiistriK'tive.  Sonic  luUlitioiial  facts  beariiii^  ou  his 
own  life,  Avliicli  I  rcnienilu'r,  wero  as  follows  :  That  when 
a  clerk  in  liis  native  citv,  and  only  thirteen  years  of  a<»'e, 
he  wrote  for  the  papers,  and  conceived  the  idea  of  tMlitinj^- 
a  literary  jonrnal,  which  was  partially  successful ;  that  his 
reception  as  an  actor  in  New  York  was  sinii)ly  astouiidin*:: 
to  himself  and  friends,  but  that  the  people  of  lioston 
were  even  more  enthusiastic  ;  that  he  was  only  twenty 
years  of  a<2;e  when  he  went  to  seek  his  fortune  in  Europe 
as  a  ti'aii'edian  in  I8I0  ;  that  his  trauedv  of  "  Hrutus"  was 
written  for  Edmund  Kcan,  and  produced  in  London  in 
1818  ;  that  while  this  play  really  saved  Drury  Lane  Theatre 
from  a  collai)se,  the  amount  of  his  compensation  from  that 
source  was  less  than  one  thousand  dollars;  that  Charles 
Lamb  was  not  only  one  of  his  best  friends,  while  in 
London,  but  frecpiently  sent  him  a  spicy  letter,  in  one  of 
which  he  said  that  his  booksellers  were  constantly  cheat- 
in«i^  him  ;  that  while  other  actors  were  making  money  in 
London,  he  was  on  the  borders  of  starvation  ;  that  for  a 
book  he  wrote  on  "  The  Neglected  (leniuses  of  America," 
he  could  never  obtain  a  })ul)lisher;  that  the  song  of 
"Sweet  Home"  was  sui»i»ested  to  him  by  an  air  which 
he  had  heard  from  the  lips  of  an  Italian  peasant-girl ; 
that  it  had  always  seemed  a  gri>at  mystery  to  him  that 
while  he  had  done  all  he  could  to  make  i)leasant  tlu; 
homes  of  other  people,  he  had  never  been  al)le  to  have 
a  home  for  himself  ;  that  it  had  always  been  a  source 
of  gratification  to  him,  tliat  such  men  as  Ednumd  Kean, 
Charles  Kemble,  Edwin  Forrest,  and  J.  W.  Wallack 
had  all  represented  some  of  his  characters  on  the  stage  ; 
and  that  no  man  Inul  ever  been  blessed  with  better  or 
more  devoted  friends.     And  here,  for  the  benefit  of  those 


fj 


2.16 


IIAIUIAZAUD    rKIlSONALlTIES. 


M: 


W^ 


It: 


m 


i 


wlio  can  ai)pre('ijito  un  incident  wliicli  seems  Jiliiiost  ijiii(iu(; 
in  its  pathos,  I  su])nilt  the  followiiiij; :  One  winter  nii^Iit 
in  London,  Payne  was  without  money  or  credit,  liad 
not  where  to  hiy  his  head,  lie  tried  to  quiet  the  paii<j;s 
of  huniier  and  lionielessness  by  h)okin<2:  in  at  tlie  win- 
dows,  and  from  tiie  areas  scenting  good  cheer.  It  was 
Christmas  eve,  tlie  snow  fell  fast,  the  wind  was  shari) 
and  keen.  At  one  luxurious  house  the  hunijry  man 
stoi)ped  and  watched  the  lighting  of  the  Christmas  tree. 
Its  candles  streamed  brightly  on  the  pavement,  and  among 
the  evergreens  he  could  see  the  red  l)erries  of  holly,  the 
toys  and  garlands,  and  the  pretty  heads  of  children. 
They  danced  and  cla[)ped  their  hands  while  the  presents 
were  ])eing  distriltutcd,  and  the  air  rang  with  shouts 
of  laughter  and  screams  of  delight.  AVhen  the  merri- 
ment had  spent  itself  a  little,  one  young  girl  went  to 
the  piano  and  warhled  '•  Sweet  Home,"  while  the  family 
joined  in  a  rousing  chorus.  And  Avliat  .1  story!  John 
Howard  Payne  —  "Home,  Sweet  Home" — not  a  penny 
in  the  world  —  a  lonely  grave  overlookin<>:  tlu;  ruins 
of  Carthage  —  a  death  journey  of  several  tiiousand  miles 
—  and  a  monument  in  the  metropolis  of  his  native 
land  ! 

It  was  Daniel  AVebster  who  sent  Payne  as  .1  consul  to 
Tunis,  and  who  su])se(piently  appointed  K.  S.  Chilton  to  a 
clerkship  in  the  Department  of  State  ;  and  it  is  an  inter- 
esting incident  that  the  touching  words  which  were  for- 
merly on  the  tombstone  at  Tunis  were  written  by  Chilton, 
and  were  us  follows  :  —  _J      1 


7" 


*'  Sure,  when  th}'-  gentle  spirit  fled 

To  realms  beyond  the  azure  dome,  ' 

"With  arms  outstretched,  God's  augel  said, 
*  Welcome  to  heaven's  Home,  Sweet  Home."' 


\fh 


JOim   IKnVAUD    PA'l'NE. 


237 


til 

II  y 

lis 

t'S 

ivc 

to 
I)  :i 

Oll, 


III  1882,  a,  moveiiu'iit  was  iiuulo  by  William  W.  Cor- 
coran, for  tlie  reinoval  of  I*aym''s  remains  from  'J'nnis  to 
the  Oak  Hill  Cemetery  in  Wasliin<i;ton  ;  and  an  aeconnt  <>f 
tiiat  rare  ac*t  of  kindness  I  have  recorded  in  an  nnpub- 
lished  ])ioi;ra})hi('al  sketch  of  IMr.  Corcoran.  The  foUou- 
in<j;  coincidence,  liowever,  may  be  mentioned  liere  :  It  was 
an  air  that  I*ayno  lieard  in  Italy  which  insi)ir('d  his  soii;^;  of 
"  Sweet  Home"  ;  and  it  was  the  nmsic  of  this  soni:;,  heaid 
])y  ]\rr.  Corcoran,  in  Washiniiton,  wliich  snjigested  the 
thonght  of  having  the  remains  of  the  poet  ri'moved  from 
Cartha<>e  to  the  American  nietroi)olis,  where,  with  special 
lionors,  they  were  dnly  deposited,  on  the  0th  of  Jnne, 
188.'].  That  the  motive  of  Mr.  Corcoran  wjis  credittil)le,  on 
the  score  of  liberality,  and  the  idea  poetical,  none  can  deny, 
lint  the  parade  which  attiMidcd  the  second  bnrial  was  out 
of  place  and  unfortnnate.  Tlu;  mainu'r  in  which  an  inju- 
dicious choir,  in  sinoiii<>'  the  song*  of  "  Sweet  Home,"  sub- 
stituted for  the  origimd  nuisic  some  insipid  variations 
of  their  own,  was  a  sickening  mistake  to  me,  and  threw 
a  shadow  over  all  the  proceedings.  The  two  beautiful 
thoughts,  mentioned  to  me  bv  JNIr.  Corcoran  himself,  that 
the  ashes  of  the  poet  wtM'e  to  find  a  final  resting-place 
under  a  beautiful  tree  in  his  native  land,  and  that  his 
famous  song  should  l>e  sung  over  his  grave,  to  the  dear 
old  tune  which  the  poet  loved,  were  both  iguoi-ed  by 
meddlesome  friends.  IMore  than  that,  what  should  have 
been  a  beautiful  commemoration,  was  marred  by  an  iii- 
ajipropriate  military  parade.  It  is  a  pleasure  to  know, 
however,  that  when  the  follies  of  this  occasion  are  for- 
gotten, the  people  will  be  glad  to  remenil)cr  jMr.  Corcoran's 
liberality,  tne  funeral  oration  of  JMr.  Leiuh  l^)bins()n, 
and  the  commemorative  poem  written  by  the  author  of 
the  Tunis  epitaph,  and  from  which  I  (piote  two  verses 


l!    I 


238 


IIAl'IIAZAUn    1'I:H.S()NALITIE8. 


tliat  Jirc  ill  every  wjiy  worthy  of  the  author  of  "  Sweet 
Home,"  lis  follows  :  — 

"  Here,  whore  Ills  own  loved  skies  o'erarch  the  spot, 

And  where  I'iiinillar  trees  tluslr  bninche«>  nave, 
Where  the  dear,  lioiiie-born  llowi-rs  lie  in  ir^jot 

Shall  bloom  and  sin  d  their  dews  upon  i    ■?  ;;rave. 
Will  not  the  wood-thnish,  pausini^  In  her  tlight, 

Carol  more  sweetly  o'er  this  plaee  of  rest? 
Here  llnj^er  longest  in  the  fadini;  light 

Before  she  seeks  her  solitary  nest?  " 

It  was  the  poor  and  uiihaiipy  Payne  who  wrote,  "  Be  it 
ever  so  humble,  there's  no  place  like  home'' ;  and  I  have 
thought  that  if  he  could  have  had  a  voice  in  re<;ar(l  to 
his  fmal  buritil,  and  had  known  that  none  were  to  be 
admitted  to  tJie  ceremonies  excepting  IIk;  '»  who  were  in- 
vit(>(l,  he  would  have  said,  "  Not  so  ;  no  "^ter  how  poor 
and  humble,  let  the  common  people!  come  ..cely,  through 
the  iron  gates,  to  my  burial."  lint  let  his  ashes  rest  in 
peace  ;  he  is  at  home  now,  and  the  windows  are  all  closed 
forevermore. 


iliiJ 

'ill  ' 


EDWAKD    N.    KIRK. 

TiTE  unexpected  deith,  in  Boston,  of  this  distinguished 
and  eloquent  clergyman  revived  in  my  mind  two  or  three 
recollections  which  are  worth  mentioning.  I  met  him  for 
the  first  time  in  the  good  old  davs,  when  the  Mercer  Street 
Church  in  New  York  was  nnder  the  care  of  Thomas  II. 
Skinner.  I  was  a  member  of  that  congregation,  and  it 
was  there  that  IMr.  Kirk  preached  a  series  of  sei-mons 
which  attracted  immense  crowds,  exerted  a  vi'iy  remark- 


EDWAItll   N.    KIUK. 


239 


}i])lo  itifluonce,  and  gave  liiin  a  position  in  tho  front  ranka 
of  tho  rr('sl)vterian  cliurch  as  an  orator.  His  di^nitv  and 
learninjij,  liis  rare  command  of  lanuiiajjjc  and  power  of  il- 
lustration, liis  ]\nowli'dt^o  of  lunnan  natnro,  and  l»is  sinccr- 
itv  placed  liim  very  far  in  advance  of  tlie  ";reat  herd  of 
the  so-called  revival  preachers  who  have  canght  the  puljliu 
ear  in  later  days.  Some  of  the  stories  coiniected  with  his 
early  life  are  esi)ecially  interesting.  For  example,  when, 
in  18'2S,  he  was  snddenly  ex[)elled  from  a  church  in  AU 
))anv,  hecause  he  would  not  submit  to  the  dictation  of 
certain  rich  men,  and  when  he  heiird  that  a  part  of  tho 
congregation  had  determined  to  stand  l»v  him  and  huild  a 
new  church,  he  said,  "  I  would  go  to  the  gates  of  hell 
with  such  a  band  of  followers."  At  a  later  period,  when 
settled  over  another  church,  his  p()[)ularlty  was  so  great 
that  the  patroon  Van  lJenss;daer  declared  that  l\Ir,  Kirk 
had  doibU'd  the  value  of  his  property  in  Albany.  After 
he  had  'irly  made  his  mark  as  a  revival  preacher,  he  be- 
came nuj  'pular  with  the  reprobate  classes,  and  for  that 
reason,  and  because  the  steeple  of  his  church  was  rather 
queer  in  shape,  he  was  called  the  "  Pepper-box  preacher." 
And  one  of  the  stories  related  of  him,  connected  with  the 
cause  of  temperance,  was  this  :  He  had  met  a  man  on  a 
country  road,  who  was  goijig  home  in  a  state  of  gross  in- 
toxication. He  reasoned  with  the  poor  drunkard  in  such 
earnest  and  pathetic  terms  that  he  became  sober  under 
tlie  inlluence  of  his  feelings,  and  consented  to  fall  upon 
his  knees,  with  INIr.  Kirk,  in  tho  corner  of  a  fence,  while 
the  latter  uttered  an  earnest  prayer  for  restoration  of  the 
poor  man  to  a  happier  condition  in  life. 

By  way  of  illustrating  the  persuasive  character  of  his 
ehxpience,  the  following  incident  may  be  related:  On 
one  occasion,  Mr.  Kirk  made  au  appeal  to  the  people  iu 


'I     'i 


if 

J 

; 
1 

\ 

1 

^-     ^    ^ 

240 


nAPlIAZAUD  rERSONALlTIES. 


]>oluilf  of  some  benevolent  institution,  the  effect  of  which 
was  to  secure,  in  a  few  moments,  a  hirge  amount  of 
money.  Among  these  who  had  no  money  at  hand,  l)ut 
who  had  been  deeply  impressed,  was  a  charming  lady  whom 
J  liad  accompanied  to  church,  and  when  the  plate  reached 
our  pew,  my  astonishment  knew  no  bounds,  as  I  saw  lier 
put  into  it  all  the  valuables  that  happened  to  be  on  hei"  per- 
son. I  remonstrated  with  lier  for  her  follv,  bul  she  was 
obdurate.  In  due  time,  howexn-,  she  reconsidered  the  mat- 
ter, and  on  the  next  day  permitted  her  father  to  redeem 
the  pledges  of  her  liberality,  which  he  was  only  too  glad 
to  do. 

The  effect  of  Mr.  Kirk's  eloquence  upon  my  mind  and 
feelings  was  probably  (piite  as  great  as  upon  any  other 
person  ;  and  ]  am  thankful  that  even  the  thii'd  of  a  cen- 
tury has  not  been  able  to  eft'ace  it  from  my  memory.  My 
Sunday-school  da3's,  even  at  that  time,  were  linked  with  a 
more  remote  period  of  my  life,  but  I  took  a  class  in  the 
Mercer  Street  Church,  and  made  a  desperate  attempt  to 
teach  a  dozen  rosy  little  boys,  i  soon  found,  however, 
that  I  could  not  answer  one  half  of  their  innocent  but  ex- 
ceedingly wise  questions  (and  which  I  find  the  great 
divines  of  the  world  cannot  answer  to-day) ,  and  so  I  re- 
signed my  position  as  teacher  and  entered  the  Bible  class. 
The  man  at  whose  feet  I  now  sat  as  a  pupil  was  Benjamin 
F.  Butler,  the  Ex-Attorney-General  of  the  United  States, 
who  had  been  one  of  Mr.  Kirk's  supporters  in  Albany. 
He  wap  very  amiable  and  gentlemanly  in  his  manners  ; 
and  when  I  subsequently  became  acquainted  with  his  his- 
tory, I  was  filled  with  amazement  that  such  a  man  should 
have  been  so  famous  a  politician.  Whatever  became  of 
the  young  people  who  listened  to  Mr.  Butler's  religious 
teachings  I  cannot  tell ;  but  at  the  time  in  question  there 


. 


teDWAUD   N.    KIRK. 


241 


X- 

•e- 

IB. 

ill 

y. 

•s; 


;rc 


was  a  vounsf  man  in  his  law  office  who  was  talked  about 
a  great  deiil,  and  who  beeanie  a  famous  general,  killed  a 
fellow-being  in  eold  blood,  and  obtained  the  position  of 
minister  i)leni[)otentiary. 

The  last  time  th:\t  I  had  the  privilege  of  hearuig  INIr. 
Kirk  preaeh  was  in  lrSr)2,  and  at  tlic  little  ehureh  in  Dux- 
burv,  Mass.  He  h;id  been  invited  to  eome  down  from 
lioston  for  that  purpose;  and  wl  en  it  was  ascertained 
that  he  would  accept,  tlie  news  was  sent  to  INIarshdehl, 
and  at  the  appointed  time  Mr.  Webster,  and  all  the  friends 
who  were  there  visiting  him,  were  present  in  the  Duxbury 
church.  The  sermon,  to  quote  from  my  "  Private  Life  of 
])ani(^l  AVebster,"  was  on  tlie  efficacy  of  prayer,  and  was 
distinguished  not  only  for  its  ehxpience  but  for  its  argu- 
ments. It  dealt  in  nothing  but  pure  Bible  doctrines,  as 
understood  by  the  Orthodox  church.  Mr.  AVebster  listened 
with  marked  attention  to  the  whole  discourse,  and,  after 
the  service  was  closed,  went  up  and  congratulated  the 
preacher.  On  our  return  home,  his  conversation  turned 
upon  the  sermon,  and  he  said  it  was  remarkable,  a  great 
effort.  lie  snid  the  arguments  adduced  Avei-e  unanswer- 
able, and  that  if  a  man  would  only  live  according  to  the 
lessons  of  such  preaching,  lie  would  be  a  happy  man,  both  in 
this  world  and  the  world  to  come.  lie  said,  moreover, 
"  There  is  not  a  single  sentiment  in  that  discourse  with 
which  I  do  not  fully  concur."  And  this  remark,  when 
appended,  as  it  ought  to  be,  to  the  sermon  when  hereafter 
published,  will  serve  to  convince  the  world  that  liis  views 
of  religion  were  most  satisfactory.  During  the  whole  of 
our  drive  home,  he  conversed  npon  matters  contained  in 
or  suggested  l)y  the  discourse,  and  I  deeply  regret  that  I 
did  not  take  more  ample  notes  of  what  he  said  on  the 
occasion. 

16 


>'  ^ 


242 


IIAril AZ AllD   PERSONALITIES . 


M^  * 


B 


A  short  time  after  Mr.  Webster's  death,  I  wrote  Mr. 
Kirk  a])out  the  Duxbury  meethig,  giving  him  some  pir- 
ticuhirs,  and  asking  for  the  privilege  of  reading  the  ser- 
mon on  the  death  of  Webster  lie  had  just  delivered  in  Bos- 
ton, and  which  I  thought  might  be  gratifying,  and  the 
following  reply  was  the  result :  — 

"Is  it  possil)le  I  had  the  privilege  of  proclaiming  the 
Gospel  to  that  noble  spirit  the  last  time  he  ever  heard  it 
from  the  pulpit?  I  should  like  at  some  time  to  sa}'  some 
things  about  it  in  conversation,  which  are  not  worth  put- 
ting on  paper.  The  situation  was  full  of  temptation  to 
me.  I  never  so  revered  any  human  intellect.  I  never 
felt  so  conscious  of  mv  own  intellectual  weakness  before 
anv  human  hearer.  And  vet  I  felt  great  delight  in  com- 
muning  with  such  a  mind  aljout  those  lofty  themes. 
For  months  had  Mr.  AVebster  l)een  the  su'^jcct  of  my 
prayer,  and  I  received  from  God  the  opportunity  of 
preaching  to  him  as  a  favor ;  because  I  loved  him,  and 
knew  some  avenues  to  his  heart,  to  introduce  Christ's 
precious  Gospel  to  it. 

"  The  little  book  I  send  you  contains  the  sermon  on 
Prayer,  which  you  heard  in  Duxbury.  It  is  not  prepared 
for  the  press.  Therefore  I  commit  it  to  your  friendly 
care  and  literary  taste,  to  defend  it  at  least  from  a  shabby 
appearance  before  the  world.  The  other  sermon  I  send, 
as  you  request.  But  that  is  likewise  luifinished.  The 
closing  part  is  from  an  old  sermon.  The  other  part  was 
written  after  nine  o'clock  on  Saturdav  evening,  and 
therefore  nuist  be  crude.  Webster's  death  was  not  my 
subject,  but  the  occasion  of  its  salvation  ;  and  it  made 
the  solonn  atmosphere  which  predisposed  the  audience  to 
a  very  favorable  rece})tioii  of  it, 

"  You  will  see,  in  the  close  of  the  sermon  on  Prayer, 


ELISIIA    KENT    KANE. 


243 


L 


Mr.  Webster's  luinic.  It  was  striking  to  nie  to  have  his 
naiiu!  on  the  face  of  my  sermon,  and  tlie  mi.ii  himself  l)e- 
fo'-e  me.  Of  course,  1  could  make,  on  tiiat  occasion,  only 
the  most  vague  alhisions  to  him.  But  my  scene  was 
that  of  '  the  ni[)\\  to  Ilayne.'  l*lease  take  care  of  my 
poor  manuscripts.  They  are  ii  clergyman's  stock  in 
trade. 

"  Boston,  Oct.  29, 1852. 

"P.  S.  I  confess  to  an  enthusiasm,  that  lias  reached 
the  weakness  of  envy,  when  J  thought  of  you  •  i)rivilege  in 
enjoying  such  a  friendship.     Partlon  the  wrono." 

Mr.  Kirk,  who  honored  tlie  title  of  doctor  of  divinity, 
was  })orn  in  New  York,  graduated  at  Princeton,  was  the 
autlior  of  live  books  and  a  large  number  of  sermons  pub- 
lished in  pamplilet  form,  iiad  at  heart  for  many  years  tlie 
cause  of  the  Evangelical  Society,  was  for  a  time  a  regular 
preaclier  in  the  city  of  Paris,  and  died  at  the  good  old  age 
of  seventy-two. 


i 


ELISIIA   KENT   KANE. 

Elisiia  Kent  Kane  was  unquestionably  one  of  the  most 
remarkable  men  of  his  age.  Having  published  a  review 
or  synopsis  of  his  later  and  more  important  discoveries,*  1 
have  thought  that  a  few  particulars  about  the  man  himself, 
and  a  short  account  of  his  earlier  exi)l()its,  miuiit  be 
acceptable  to  my  readers.  Wliat  little  I  ha\e  to  say  is 
uttered  in  a  spirit  of  patriotic  satisfaction,  and  yet  I  can- 
not divest  myself  of  the  thought  that  our  Arctic  hero  has 
gone  altroad  (this  was  written  while  the  doctor  was  still 


*  See  Evenings  in  my  Library. 


i: 


244 


II A  1*1 1 AZ AKI)    PERSONALITIES . 


i  ! 


Ill 


I  > 


living)  for  the  restoration  of  Lis  lieiiltb,  which  has  been 
pronounced  exceedingly  precarious.  Indeed  it  is  thouglit 
by  some  that  he  may  never  again  be  permitted  to  see  his 
native  hmd.  Such  a  fate  would  be  most  deeply  lamented, 
and  1  must  cherish  the  hope  that  lie  will  not  only  return, 
but  live  to  spend  many  hapi)y  and  i)eaceful  years  in  the 
land  where  his  name  has  become  a  nmch-loved  household 
word. 

Dr.  Kane  was  born  in  Philadelphia,  on  the  3d  of  Feb- 
ruary, 1(S20,  and  graduated  at  the  University  of  Pennsyl- 
vania, in  1843,  first  in  the  collegiate  and  subsequenth^  in 
the  medical  department ;  and  when  he  started  upon  his 
active  career  of  adventure  he  was  esteemed  a  good  classi- 
cal scholar  and  a  good  chemist,  mineralogist,  astronomer, 
and  surgeon.  His  frame,  even  from  boyhood,  was  deli- 
cate ;  and  with  a  view  of  strengthening  his  constitution, 
he  solicited  an  appointment  in  the  navy  as  surgeon,  and 
obtained  it,  and  was  attached  to  the  first  American  em- 
])assy  to  China.  This  position  gave  him  op])ortunity  to 
ex[)lore  the  Philipi)ine  Islands,  which  he  elfected  nuiinly 
on  foot,  lie  was  the  first  man  who  descended  into  the 
crater  of  Tael,  lowered  more  than  a  hundred  feet  by  a 
bamboo  ro[)e  from  the  overhanging  cliff,  and,  clambering 
down  some  seven  hundred  more  through  the  scoria',  lu' 
made  a  topographical  sketch  of  the  interior  of  this  great 
volcano,  coUei^ted  a  bottle  of  sulphurous  acid  from  the 
very  mouth  of  the  crater;  and,  although  he  was  drawn  up 
almost  senseless,  he  brought  with  hiin  a  sketch  of  this 
hideous  cavern  and  the  wonders  which  it  contained.  Re- 
fore  returning  home  from  this  remote  expedition,  he  had 
ascended  the  Himalayas  and  triangulated  Greece  on  foot; 
he  had  visited  Ceylon,  the  U'pper  Nile,  a'.d  all  the  myth- 
ologic  region  of  Kgypt ;  traversing  the  route,  and  making 


fi  *i  ■■ 


.  *lif! 


r 


ELISIIA    KENT   KANE. 


245 


the  acquaintance  of  the  loarneil  Lepsius,  who  was  tlion 
prosecuting  his  arcluvolouifal  researches.  He  also  trav- 
ersed Greece  on  foot,  and  returned  to  the  United  States 
tluouiili  Europe.  Soon  after  his  arrival  he  was  again 
ordered  on  dutv,  this  time  to  tlie  western  coast  of  Africa, 
lie  now  atteuipted  to  visit  the  shive  marts  of  Wliychdi  ; 
but,  iiaving  taken  the  Afriean  fever,  he  was  sent  home  in 
a  preeivrious  state  of  health.  He  recovered,  however,  and 
we  lu'xt  (iud  him  a  vohniteer  in  the  Mexican  war.  His 
adventures  in  Mexico  proved  liim  to  l)e  the  possessor  of 
hon-lil\e  courage,  and  of  a  most  generous  and  nol>le  heart; 
but  he  fell  a  victim  to  one  of  the  fevers  of  tlie  country, 
and  was  verv  near  dving.  When,  he  recovered  and  re- 
turned,  he  was  employed  in  the  Coast  Survey  I)ei)aitmeut, 
from  which  Ik;  was  transfei'red  bv  the  Secretarv  of  tiie 
Navy  to  the  post  of  surgeon  on  the  (irinnell  Arctic  expe- 
dition. Ills  iiistory  of  that  expedition  gave  him  a  high 
position  as  an  author.  Not  yet  satisfied,  however,  he 
scarcely  gave  himself  time  to  recover  from  the  hardships 
of  that  cruise  before  he  set  on  foot  the  second  Ciriu- 
nell  or  Kane  expediiion  ;  the  results  of  which  have  been 
j)ronounced  by  the  highest  European  authorities  as  among 
the  wonders  of  the  presiMit  century.  That  Dr.  Kane  has 
accomplished  much  for  the  honor  of  his  country  is  acknowl- 
edged l)y  all  men  of  all  parties  ;  and,  at  the  last  session  of 
Congress,  the  House  of  Representatives  passed  a  resolu- 
tion for  the  purchase  of  fifteen  thousand  copies  of  his 
valuable  work,  the  Secretarv  of  the  Navv  haviuij  inves- 
tigated  the  whole  subject,  and  suggested  the  propriety  of 
passing  the  resolution.  'I'h  it  resolution  is  now  l)efore  the 
Senate,  and  we  are  pleased  to  learn  that,  in  spite  of  their 
ideas  of  retrenchment,  manv  senators  think  Dr.  Kane's 
appeal  a  peculiar  one,  and  it  is  quite  probable  i  large  ma- 


Ei 

^ 


246 


HAPHAZARD    PERSONALITIES. 


: 


mil 


joritv  of  thein  aro  in  favor  of  the  resolution.*  Contrary  to 
an  oi)ini(>n  that  we  have  seen  expressed,  we  are  glad  to  be 
able  to  state  that  very  much  the  lari^est  pr()[)<)rtiun  of  the 
})rolits  of  the  work  will  go  into  the  hands  of  tlu  exi)lorer. 
AVhen  we  renienil)er  the  character  of  his  great  discoveries, 
and  tile  fame  he  has  so  justly  acquired,  and  tlien  tliinlv  of 
liim  worn  to  a  skeleton  by  diseases  contracted  wliile  Iicroic- 
aily  serving  his  countrv  ;  vesterdav,  as  it  were,  (|uittin<>-  Iiis 
liome  to  find  health  in  England,  and  to-dav  sailing  for  a  more 
genial  clime  in  the  same  pursuit,  —  we  cannot  but  believe 
that  it  would  rejoice  ):is  heart,  and  do  nnich  towards  re- 
storing his  health,  to  leai-n  that  the  government  of  his 
country  had  recognized  his  services  in  some  sul)stantial 
manner,  whereby  the  remainder  of  his  life  might  be  spent 
in  pleasantness  and  peace.  Numerous  learned  societies, 
says  a  c<)ntemi)orarv,  and  the  whole  body  of  savants,  with 
Humboldt  at  their  head,  and  all  the  commercial  nations, 
with  the  Knglish  admiralty  in  the  van,  have  loudly  de- 
clared their  generous  appi-eciation  of  Dr.  Kane's  labors, 
and  by  llattering  testimonials  have  sought  to  do  honor  to 
the  gallant  American  exi)lorer. 

When  I  i)enned  the  foregoing,  the  heroic  Dr.  Kane 
was  on  his  way  from  Kngland  to  Cuba  ;  and,  in  the  city 
of  Havana,  on  the  I (5th  of  February,  1857,  he  breathed 
his  last.  His  mother  was  with  him,  and  he  died  a  Chris- 
tian. The  Si)anish  authorities  manifested  their  son-ow  by 
every  suitable  demonstration,  and  his  remains  were  brought 
to  his  native  city,  through  the  (iulf  of  Mexico,  up  the 
JNlississippi  and  Ohio  Kivers,  and  over  the  mountains; 
the  inhabitants  of  every  city  on  the  route  doing  all  in 


ill* 


*  Note.  — The  book  resolution  did  not  pass,  but  another  was 
adopted  awarding  a  medal  to  the  explorer. 


ELISnA  KENT  KANE. 


247 


their  power  to  honor  his  ineinoiT.  Ilis  remains  arrived  in 
Phihidelphia  on  the  11th  of  JMarcli,  and  the  obse(j[uies 
took  phiee  on  the  following  day.  The  entire  city  was  in 
monrniii"",  and  there  were  manvdistiniiiiished  men  from  all 
pjirts  of  the  eonntry  who  participated  in  the  sad  cere- 
mony. 

The  funeral  car  was  surmounted  by  a  canopy  and  tlome, 
having  the  flags  of  England,  France,  Spain,  and  the 
United  States  at  the  corners.  The  prominent  gentlemen 
who  attended  it  as  pall-bearers  were,  of  course,  objects 
of  interest ;  but  no  persons  in  the  line  excited  more  gen- 
eral attention  than  the  surviving  conu'ades  of  Dr.  Kane, 
who  followed  immediately  after  the  remains  of  their  late 
commander,  bearing  among  them  the  weatherbeaten  flag  of 
the  "  Advance." 

This  party  was  led  by  William  Morton,  a  name  which 
will  be  familiar  to  all  who  have  read  the  account  of  the 
last  Arctic  expedition,  under  the  command  of  the  lamented 
Kane.  Mr.  JNIorton  was  born  in  Ireland,  but  left  his 
native  land  at  a  very  earlv  a2;e,  and  has  now  been  in 
America  about  seventeen  years.  He  first  became  ac- 
quainted  witli  Dr.  Kane  in  California,  and  after  one  voy- 
age to  the  I'olar  Seas,  jcnned  the  Arctic  ex[)edition  under 
the  doctor,  and  on  the  ill-fated  "  Advance."  Mr.  Morton 
was  the  one  who  volunteered  with  the  Esquimaux  boy  to 
go  north  in  searcli  of  tlie  open  sea  ;  and  after  a  circui- 
tous and  fatiguing  route  of  three  hundred  miles,  dragging 
their  sledges  over  the  icebergs,  the  great  Polar  Sea  was 
discovered.  He  is  the  only  living  white  m;in  who  has 
ever  seen  the  great  open  Polar  Sea,  whose  waters  wash 
the  icebergs  of  the  far-distant  north.  He  is  now  but 
thirty-five  years  of  age,  and  has  the  appearance  of  one 
who  could  well  undergo  the  fatigues  of  an  Arctic  winter. 


s 


M 


■u 


"•"aii 


i;  I 


t 

( 

i 

I 

248 


HAPIIAZAIll)   rEllSONALmES. 


i 

it 

L        ■  i 

t 

1^ 

1 

Ml 

The  religious  services  took  place  at  the  Second  Pres- 
bytei'iiui  Church.  Tliey  were  preceded  ])y  the  singing  of  a 
hynni ;  and  tlie  prayer  was  pronounced  by  the  Kev.  C'.  W. 
Sliields,  after  which  the  remains  were  conveyed  to  Laurel 
Hill  for  interment. 

Sliortly  after  my  review  was  i)rinted,  and  just  l)ef()re 
Dr.  Kane  took  his  departure  for  Kuroi)!',  I  was  lic^nored 
and  nnicli  gratified  by  receiving  a  handsomely  bound  auto- 
grapli  co[)y  of  tlie  "  Explorations,"  accompanied  by  the 
following  note  :  — 

riiiLADELriiiA,  Sept.  27,  ISriC). 

IFy  dear  /S/?',  —  I  beg  that  you  will  accept  these  volumes 
simply  as  indications  of  my  personal  kind  feeling  and 
respect. 

The  o])ligations  under  which  3'onr  able  pen  has  placed 
me  1  fully  acknowledge  ;  and  I  sincerely  hope  that  you 
will  give  me  an  opportunity  of  reciprocating  them. 

Very  truly  and  sincerely  yours, 

E.  K.  Kane. 

On  the  very  day  that  the  foregoing  letter  was  written, 
Mr.  George  AV.  Cliilds  wn*ote  me  as  follows :  "Dr. 
Kane  has  just  returned  home,  and  is  completely  broken 
down  in  health.  He  says,  '  his  book,  poor  as  it  is, 
has  been  his  collln.'  He  is  nervously  awaiting  your 
review,  and  will  write  you  after  he  has  seen  it.  He 
comes  in  this  morning  to  put  your  name  in  one  of  Ash- 
mead's  copies.  As  a  last  resort,  to  build  up  his  health, 
he  leaves  for  Europe  in  a  week  or  two.  He  is  suffering 
from  scurvy." 

As  the  success  of  Dr.  Kane's  book  was  something 
remarkable,  even  for  these  days  of  remarkable  events, 


\i 


r 


ELLSIIA    KKNT    KANE. 


249 


i' 


the  following  letter  from  his  puhlisliers,  mhlresHed  to  tlie 
writei-,  limy  be  worth  printing  ns  a  frjigiiieiit  of  literary 
history :  — 

PniLADKLl'IIIA,  Oct.  14,  1850. 

Mil  dear  Sir,  — Dr.  K:nie  left  for  Europe  on  Sutunhiy, 
and  we  hardly  expect  to  see  him  again,  as  his  health 
seems  almost  past  recovery.  Nothing  has  ever  given  him 
more  pleasure  than  yonr  kind  review.  He  spoke  of  it 
feeUngly  the  last  night  he  spent  in  this  conntry  ;  he  only 
tlioiiglit  you  had  given  him  too  much  credit.  Indeed, 
the  review  could  not  possibly  be  better,  and  will  l)e  of 
immense  influence  in  regard  to  the  reputation  and  sale  of 
the  work.  It  will  tone  the  press  everywhere.  We  ordered 
five  hundred  copies  of  the  Jnte/Iifjencer ;  and  the  review 
has  gone  to  all  the  Arctic  scholars  of  Europe,  and  will  be 
read  and  coiiied  everywhere. 

In  great  haste. 

Truly  your  oljliged  friends, 

ClIILDS   &  PKTKKSOTsr. 

In  another  letter  which  Mr.  G.  W.  diilds  sent  me,  he 
informed  me  that  Dr.  Kane  had  left  directions  that  one 
of  the  guns  which  he  had  used  in  the  Arctic  seas  should 
be  presented  to  me  ;  but  I  never  received  it,  which,  of 
course,  was  a  great  disappointment. 

In  another  letter,  alluding  to  a  notice  I  had  pul)lished 
in  London,  Mr.  Childs  wrote  me  as  follows  :  "  The  review 
in  the  Athenceum  is  of  great  moment,  as  it  will  tone  a 
certain  portion  of  the  press  here."  On  the  2i)th  of  Sep- 
tember he  sent  me  the  following  :  — 

"Your  kind  note  and  review  were  duly  received.  Dr. 
Kane  has  just  read  it,  and  is  exceedingly  gratified  ;  he 


|t  I; 


(  i 


<            -  - 

N 

'  it 

:  ..ti 

■-'. 

^^i 

\ 

■ 

i 

'I1 


250 


IIAI'IIAZAIin    rKUSONAMTIEfl. 


I  .    <1 


will  write  von  on  the  snbiect.  lie  luis  IimikU'cI  nie  a  lottor. 
wliit'li  lie  wrote  yon  before  rcsicliii}^  the  review.  I  will 
send  it  to-morrow,  t<\i2;etlier  with  your  iintogniph  copy  of 
his  work.  I  send  two  copies,  and  if  yon  want  more  let 
me  know. 

"We  feel  deeply  indebted  for  your  great  kindness,  and 
hope  von  will  let  me  serve  vou  in  some  way.  'J'he  review 
is  all  and  even  more  than  we  could  possibly  exi)ect. 
In  a  literary  point  of  view  it  is  excellent,  and  the  doctor 
thinks  you  have  given  him  too  much  ( it-dit. 

"Where  are  the  live  hundred  copies?  Wo  are  very 
mnch  in  want  of  them. 

"  With  many  thanks, 

Truly  yonr  friend, 

"  Geoiuje  W.  Guilds." 


(( 


V 


li'^  • 


!P 


>    'i 
i 


■ 

■Mi 


i 

1 

! 

GEORGE   W.   BETIIUNE. 

It  is  with  rare  pleasure,  indeed,  that  I  remember  the 
occasional  sermons  which  I  was  wont  to  hear  from  the 
lips  of  this  ehxiucnt  divine  ;  but  it  was  not  my  good  for- 
tune to  know  him  persomdly.  I  record  the  circumstjuice 
with  thankfulness,  however,  that  he  recognized  my  friend- 
ship by  presenting  me  with  a  coi)y  of  his  published  ser- 
mons ;  and  when,  in  1<S47,  he  was  preparing  for  the  press 
a  second  edition  of  his  "  Walton,"  he  requested  me  to 
furnish  him  with  a  paper  on  fly-iishing  in  America, 
but  which,  on  acconnt  of  my  newspaper  duties  on  the 
New  York  Express  at  that  time,  I  could  not  prepare. 
Out  of  that  circumstance  grew  the  following  very  beauti- 
ful letter :  — - 


GEUItGE    W.    liKTllUNE. 


251 


riiTLADELniiA,  Maicli  30, 1847. 

Mji  dear  Sir,  —  I  tbtink  you  for  your  kind  note,  but 
am  truly  sorry  that  you  cannot  <^ive  a  paper  —  not  to  me, 
but  to  the  "  Walton."  The  truth  is,  I  am  very  modest 
a8  an  angler,  but  have  exerted  myself  to  the  utmost 
in  the  literary  illustration  of  our  father's  delightful  l)ook. 
As  I  wrote  to  Mr.  Duyekniek,  it  is  impossible  to  make 
a  Ji.s/n'iKj  book,  especially  an  American  fishing  book,  of 
^'  Walton."  Permit  u\v  also  to  say  that,  though  I  am 
far  from  l)eing  ashamed  of  the  gentle  art,  I  do  not  wish 
to  have  ^ny  name  formally  Mssociated  with  the  book,  as 
it  will  not  appear  on  the  title-page  ;  and  whatever  com- 
ments are  made  on  the  American  edition  (particularly 
as  to  my  part  of  it),  I  should  like  them  confined  to 
the  literary  character.  You  will  understand  my  reason 
for  this. 

My  library  is  very  good ;  piscatorially,  the  best  in 
the  country  ;  and  my  notes  have  been  accumulating  for 
years. 

I  wish  very  much  t(j  get  a  few  papers  for  the  appendix, 
on  several  distinct  branches  of  angling  :  salmon  Jisliing  m 
this  country  is  one  ;  striped  bass  Jisliimj  is  another  ;  hlnofsh 
fshihtj  deserves  a  })aper,  short  but  to  the  point ;  any  hints 
ui)on  Hies  would  be  acceptable.  Now  cannot  you  i)ossibly, 
my  good  brother  of  the  rod,  do  something  on  one  or  other 
of  these  points  ? 

I  thank  vou  for  vour  kindness  in  sending  me  the  sheets 
of  your  new  work,  antl  have  no  doubt,  from  the  peep  I 
took  into  them  at  dinner,  to  the  great  damage  of  the  mut- 
ton, that  I  shall  be  highlv  delighted  with  them. 

A  copy  of  the  sermons  you  were  so  kind  as  to  speak  of 
is  sent,  with  my  compliments,     rermit  me  to  instance  that 


M  ' 


'U.:i 


2r)2 


II  AIM  I  A/ A  KI)    TKIWONALITIKS, 


i 


'!       i 


I 


on  "The  Gospel  prcaclied  to  the  Poor,"  as  an  attempt  to 
ilUistnite  tlie  ivimhlican  system  evtinj^clically.  If  I  had 
by  me  a  copy  of  ''Fruits  of  tlie  Spirit,"  I  would  maixe 
])()hl  to  send  it  witli  the  other,  as  my  better  work  ;  ])ut  my 
copies  are  all  ^oiie. 

I  cannot  meet  you  >\t  Lake  George.  The  friend  who 
was  always  my  eom[)aiiion  theiv,  the  man  whom  I  loved 
best,  and  as  wliom  I  ean  never  love  niiin  again,  is  sleeping 
in  sacred  rest,  till  the  illustrious  morning  l)r(':iks.  lit;  is 
associated  with  every  nook  and  island  of  Lake  Cileorge, 
and  J  can  li.-h  there  no  more.  If  vou  go  there,  let  me 
recommend  you  to  lodge  at  lluliitifs  on  the  east  siiU;  of 
the  lake,  just  behjw  the  Narrows,  where  the  bass  lishing, 
now  nowhere  very  go(jd,  is  best. 

I  was  among  the  Thousand  Isles  of  the  St.  Lawrence 
last  summer.  When  you  visit  that  river,  go  l)y  all  means 
to  Alexandria  Ba//,  and  enjoy  two  days  of  fishing,  one 
iov  'pich't'cl  with  the  Hpoon.  Conroy  c:in  tell  you  what  it  is, 
and  the  lishermen  there  (Cirillin,  though  a  s:idly  profane 
dog,  is  the  best)  will  supply  you  ;  only  t:>ke  with  you  a 
couple  of  strong,  thick  trolling  liMnd-lines.  For  the  bass, 
another  day  will  hardly  suP.ice.  Use  for  them  a  fly  on  the 
ordinary-sized  lake  bass-hook,  made  with  scarlet  cloth, 
wings  and  body,  fastening  on  a  bit  of  forked  pickerel's 
tongue,  by  passing  through  the  hook  nntil   it  will  iiang 


currents, 
\'   t(j  forty 


If  1 


and 


vou 


lijijhtlv  from  the  bend.  Play  it  anion" 
round  tlie  points  of  islands,  ^ith 
yards  of  silk  line,  f  rom  a  twi  .u* 
will  say  that  even  trout  lishing  ;in  h;*  -ily  excel  it.  You 
are  no  doubt  aware  that  in  August  1  n>  bass  run  close  to 
shore  on  rocky  bottom.  Perhaps  such  advice  to  y<  '  is 
like  carrying  coals  to  Newcastle  ;  but  I  give  it  as  n<  to 
myself  last  summer.     There  is  also  a  good  trouting        .ud 


\ 


QKoiu.i:  ^y.  iii;tiii:ni:. 


253 


ut  the  licjul  of  Siilinoii  lllvcr,  IJicliru'ld,  Oswej^o  Coimty, 
about  tliiity  iiiili's  from  Home,  on  tho  rosul  to  ()g<U'nsl)iirg. 
If  tht!  strcuins  aro  well  ii[),  it  is  worth  a  visit. 

My  ])('ii  has  run  on  in  tho  (juict  miduij^ht  until  it 
threatens  to  nial<(!  von  wearv  ;  so,  tiiankin*^  vou,  I  will 
only  a(hl,  as  I  heard  an  old  preacher  onci^  brini;'  up  an 
interminably  k^n<^  sermon  of  his  by  saying,  Juudl)/,  tuul  to 
co)iduile,  I  will  say  no  more. 

Very  sincerely  3'oiirs, 

Geohge  W.  Betiiune. 


t 


9 
o 

a 


The  dei)arted  fricMid  alluded  to  in  the  above  letter  was 
the  writer's  brother-in-law,  riohn  AVilliams;  and  a  more 
beautiful  tril)ute  to  a  <»ood  nuin's  memoi-y  is  not  often  met 
with.  The  piscatorial  library  which  J)r.  liethune  collected 
and  cherished  numbered  about  seven  hundred  volumes, 
and  was  thought  to  ])e  the  largest  in  the  world  ;  and  his 
edition  of  "  Walton"  is  conceded,  in  England,  to  be  the 
best  one  ever  issued,  so  far  as  the  notes  are  concerned. 
From  what  we  know  of  this  good  man,  we  gather  that  he 
followed  the  art  of  angling  because  of  his  intense  love  of 
nature,  and  with  a  view  of  fortifying  his  health  for  the 
sedentary  duties  of  his  sacred  profession.  Although  a 
genial  man,  and  fond  of  a  good  joke,  he  was  always  the 
true  Chi'istian  gentleman,  and  seems  never  to  have  omitted 
any  opportunities  to  do  good.  A  noble  illustration  of  this 
fact  we  lind  in  the  mission  church  whic*h  lie  originated  at 
Alexandria  Bay,  which  he  loved  to  speak  of  as  his  "  pet 
child  of  the  Thousand  Islands,"  and  in  which  a  mural 
tablet  was  erected  to  his  memory,  bv  lovini;  friends  who 
had  there  heard  his  musical  voice  preaching  the  precious 
truths  of  the  Bible. 


;  '1*1  •  ^ 

nil 

!    f'V 
if!, 


m 


Ii  i 


254 


lIArilAZAllD   rERSONATJTIES. 


f^^ 


M 


EMANUEL  LEUTZE. 

Those  of  us  who  knew  Lcutzo  in  the  full  vigor  of  man- 
hood, and  are  familiar  Avitli  the  hrilliant  creations  of  liis 
hrain,  find  it  dillicult  to  realize  his  death.  lie  died  on 
Satnrday  last,  the  l<sth  inst.  (-Tnly,  18(;«),  in  a  room  which 
looived  out  upon  the  national  Capitol,  where  his  ])aintinii;  of 
"■  Westward  IIo  I  "  ^'s  a  leading  attraction;  and  tlie  only 
meniher  of  his  family  who  attended  his  death-bed  was  his 
youngest  daughter.  His  remains  were  deposited  on  Tnes- 
dav  last  in  a  vault  in  Greenwood  Cemeterv,  with  a  view 
to  their  ultimate  removal  to  some  other  locality.  INIy 
acquaintarice  with  this  accomplished  man  commenced  in 
IH;")!,  in  Washington  City,  where  it  was  my  privilege  to 
dine  with  him  at  M\\  Webster's  table,  and  who,  by  the 
way,  entertained  a  very  high  opinion  of  the  artist.  The 
last  tiniG  I  saw  him  was  on  Pennsylvania  Avenue,  near 
the  Treasury  Department.  AVhile  we  were  chatting  to- 
getlier,  AValt  Wliitnian,  the  eccentric  writer,  passed  by; 
and  I  remarked,  ''Do  vou  know  tliat  man?"  He  said 
no ;  and  when  I  told  him  who  he  was,  he  re})lied,  "•  Is  that 
so?  1  am  anxious  to  liave  a  look  at  him,"  and,  excusing 
liimself,  hurried  off;  and,  in  a  moment,  1  saw  him  adi'oitly 
scanning  the  features  of  the  author  as  they  both  passed 
into  the  department  building. 

The  business  which  called  him  to  Washington  in  1851 
was  to  look  after  the  exhibition  of  his  '^  Wasliington  Cross- 
ing the  Delaware,"  and  to  paint  one  or  two  portraits  for 
INIr.  Georijc  W.  Riiius,  who  afterward  ordered  for  his 
gallery  the  picture  of  "The  Venetian  Maskers."  Ft  was 
then,  also,  that  he  received  orders  from  Mr.  W.  AV.  Cor- 
coran for  two  of  the  best  pictures  in  his  gallery,  viz., 


:: 


mii 


EMAMLEL   LEUTZE. 


255 


■ 


*' Milton  entertaining  Cromwell"  and  "The  Amazon  and 
her  Children"  ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  lie  painted  for  tho 
writer  of  this  letter  ''A  IMounted  J'ioneer,"  which  wms  tlie 
original  of  the  leading  figure  in  the  national  painting  of 
"  Westward  IIo  !  " 

At  the  time  in  question  I  asked  Mr.  Leucze  for  the 
leading  events  of  his  life,  partly  for  my  own  gratiiieation 
and  partly  with  a  view  of  eventually  printing  them  ;  and, 
from  the  notes  then  taken,  I  sul>mit,  with  a  few  later  facts, 
the  following  particulars :  He  was  born  in  Gniund,  Wiir- 
temberg,  May  24,  1816  ;  and,  when  a  mere  child,  his 
parents  emigrated  to  this  country,  settling  in  Philadelphia. 
During  his  bovhood  he  bore  the  name  of  P_^manuel  Gott- 
leib,  but  subsequently  abandoned  the  second  name.  In 
that  city  he  received  the  rudiments  of  a  good  education, 
and  acquired  the  preliminary  knowledge  of  an  art  which  he 
fancied  f r  "m  his  earliest  bovhood.  It  was  while  attend- 
ing  at  tue  bed  of  his  sick  father  that  he  first  began  to 
uraw,  by  way  of  beguiling  his  leisure  moments.  In  his 
fifteenth  year  he  produced  a  portrait,  which  was  his  first 
effort  in  oil ;  and  his  first  composition  piece  was  the  figure 
of  an  Indian  contemplating  the  setting  sun,  which  won  for 
him  the  friendship  of  Edward  S.  Carey,  and  eventually 
resulted  in  his  illustrations  of  the  poems  of  William  C. 
Bryant,  one  of  which,  "  The  Catterskill  Falls,"  is,  in  my 
opinion,  unsurpassed  for  its  exquisite  beauty  and  senti- 
ment among  the  productions  of  that  class.  Jn  18;JG  he 
visited  AVashington,  under  orders  from  a  Philadelphia  pub- 
lisher, for  the  purpose  of  painting  portraits  of  certain  fa- 
mous men  ;  but,  as  the  project  failed,  he  bolted  for  the 
interior  of  Virginia,  where,  as  a  wandering  painter  of  por- 
traits, he  remained  until  1841.  In  the  early  part  of  that 
year,  assisted  by  his  friend  E.  L.  Carey,  he  went  to  Eu- 


m 


256 


HAPHAZARD   rKllSONALITIES. 


IJ< 


rope,  studied  for  a  time  as  a  i)upil  of  tlie  famous  Lessing, 
iu  Dusseldorf,  visited  the  most  celebmted  giiUeries  of  art 
between  London  and  Constantinople,  won  and  married  a 
German  wife,  and  finally  settled  down  to  hard  work  in 
Dusseldorf.  Tlie  kindness  of  the  German  heart  to  stran- 
gers, and  espeeially  to  Americans,  aiid  the  German  blood 
in  l)is  veins,  naturally  caused  him  to  fraternize  with  the 
artists  and  people  of  Dusseldorf,  so  tliat  he  imu  ediately 
felt  at  home  ;  and,  during  his  several  lengthened  sojourns 
in  Europe,  that  city  was  alwa^'s  his  lionie.  AV'ith  the  types 
of  national  character  in  Pvurope  he  became  sutliciently 
well  acquainted  to  grapple  successfully  with  any  idea  that 
suggested  itself  to  his  mind  ;  and  among  the  European 
subjects  which  lie  depicted  with  rare  skill  and  power 
may  be  mentioned  the  following  :  "  Henry  VI 11.  and  Anne 
Boleyn,"  "The  Court  of  Queen  Elizabeth,"  "  The  Puritan 
and  his  Daughter,"  "The  Iconoclasts,"  "The  Amazon 
and  her  Children,"  "The  Image  Breaker,"  "  Columlms 
before  the  Council  of  Salamanca,  '  "Columbus  in  Chains," 
"Columbus  before  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,"  "John  Knox 
and  (^ueen  Mary,"  "  Landing  of  the  Northmen  in  America," 
"Cromwell  and  bis  Daughter,"  "  Knight  of  Syme,"  "  Fred- 
erick the  Great  entreating  his  Father's  Pardon,"  "  Milton 
before  Cromwell,"  "  Ilaleigh  in  Prison,"  and  "Venetian 
Maskers,"  together  with  a  variety  of  purely  imaginative 
illustrations  of  the  poets.  Many  of  the  above  pictures 
were  purchased  by  patrons  of  art  in  this  country  ;  but, 
while  the  artist's  American  friends  were  pleased  to  know 
that  he  was  accomi)lishing  so  mau}'^  admirable  things  illus- 
trative of  E'lropean  history,  many  of  them  publicly  ex- 
pressed their  regret  that  he  shoidd  have  so  cou>pl(»tely 
exiled  his  pencil  as  well  as  his  person  from  the  land  where 
he  spent  his  boyhood. 


1 


EMANl'KL   LKUTZE. 


257 


h1- 

oll 

ut, 

low 

IIS- 
'K- 

lely 
lere 


. 


But  in  thus  censuring  tlie  young  artist,  tliose  wlio  knew 
him  not  were  doing  liini  ii  wrong.     The  trutli  was,  at  that 
very  period,  instead  of   forgetting  Jiis  adopted  country, 
Leutze  was  studying  ahnost  nothing  hut  its  liistory  and 
cliaracteristics,  aniniated  l)y  tlie  noble  and  the  single  hope 
that  he  would  yet  he  al)le  to  portray,  in  a  worthy  ni:inner, 
ui)on  his  canvas,  some  of  the  more  splendid  e\'ents  of  its 
liistory.     After  making  two  or  three  prolonged  visits  to 
this  country,  he  fintdly  settled  in  New  York  in  1851>,  where 
he  continued  to  reside  until  a  few  mouths  before  his  death, 
Avhen  he  came  to  "Washington  to  carry  out,  in  a  quiet  studio, 
certain  extensive  plans  in  regard  to  one  or  two  pictures  con- 
nected with  our  I'acitic  possessions.     Several  years  before 
he  entered  u[)on  the  execution  of  his  American  pictures, 
he  i  lentified  himself,  in  a  most  credital>le  manner,  with 
the  liistorv  of  South  America,  by  ])roducin<i:  his  ''Attack 
on  the  Temple  of  the  Aztecs  by  Cortez,"     Although,  when 
true  to  himself,  his  power  of  drawing  and  knowledge  of 
color  were  well-nigh  consunnnate,  he  had  one  great  dilli- 
culty  to  contend  with,  which  was  the  want  of  a  t'jpe  of 
American  character,  especially  a  type  that  would  help  him 
to  delineate  the  men  whose  characters  were  moulded  by 
the  Uevolution.     While  all  the  more  prominent  countries 
of  the  world  were  old  enough  in  civilization  to  be  charac- 
terized  by  a  type,  he  saw  that  the  I'nited  States,  tliougli 
marching  on  to  innnense  power  and  greatness,  was  without 
this  syml)ol  of  distinction.     lie  discovered  the  type  for 
which  he  was  seeking  in  a  peculiar  contraction  of  the  brow 
and  a  l)rilliant  eve,  and  a  moutli  which  denoted  indomita- 
])le  perseverance,  industry,  energy,  and  fearlessness.     No 
sooner  had  he  made  this  discovery  than  it  appeared  to  him 
jis  plain  as  a  solved  I'iddle.     Tliis  tyjie  was,  indeed,  the 
enigma  of  his  life,  and  absorbed  his  thoughts  for  a  period 

If 


If 


.. 


258 


IIArilAZAUD    rEUSONALlTIES. 


;i 

# 

i 

i            ; 

of  six  years.     In  less  than  nine  montlis  after  his  niiiid  had 
settled  itself  upon  his  new  ideas,  he  painted  his  first  Amer- 
ican picture  of    "  AVashington   Crossing  the   Delaware." 
This  was  followed  by  "  AVashington  rallying  his  Tr()0[)s  at 
Monmouth,"   ""Washington  at  Princeton," ''•  Washington 
at  IMonongahela,"   "News  from  Lexington,"  "  Sergeimt 
Jasper,"   "Battle   of  Yorktown,"   by   a   number  of  full- 
length  historical  portraits,  by  Hester  Pi-ynne  and   Little 
Pearl,  from  Hawthorne's  "  Scarlet  Letter,"  and  tiuMllv  bv 
his  great  picture  of  "  AV^estward  llo  !  "  painted  for  the  gen- 
eral government.     AVhile  it  is  true  that  his  purely  Ameri- 
can pictures  are  sufliciently  numerous  and  meritorious  to 
give  him  a  lasting  reputation,  it  is  also  true  that  what  he 
accomplished  in  that  direction  was  only  the  beginning  of 
what  he  hoped  to  perform.     I>ut  a  full  account  of  Leutze's 
productions  cannot  even  be  catalogued  in  this  brief  letter, 
and  of  course  this  is  not  the  time  nor  place  to  enter  upon 
an  nnalysis  of  his  exalted  genius.     That  he  was  an  artist 
of  very  superior  ability  has  been  acknowledged   by  the 
best  European   and    American  critics;    and  that  he  was 
remarkably  industrious  is  proven  by  the  large  number  of 
his  pictures  extant,  a  majority  of  which  are  owned  in  this 
counti'v.      His  personal  appearance  and  nervous  manner 
denoted  him  a  man  of  genius,  and  his  attainments  as  a 
scholar  were  decidedly  creditable  ;  bu<^,  gifted  as  he  was  in 
intellect,  he  was  also  a  man  of  rare  physical  courage  and 
endurance,  as  V:2  following  incidents  will  illustrate  :  He 
once  accomplished,  within  the  limits  of  a  single  day  and 
unattended  by  a  guide,  the  ascent  of  one  of  the  highest 
mountains  of  Switzerhind  ;  and,  although  he  suffered  ex- 
v^eedinglv  from  fatigue  and  cold  and  thirst,  he  returned  to 
his  lodgings  in  the  valley  without  the  least  injury.     On 
another  occasion,  when  about  to  j(jurney  down  the  Rhine, 


♦ 


.. 


::!iiAULKS  iii<:AVYSEfip:. 


2no 


the  little  Unit  in  which  he  was  to  sail  went  off  without  liini ; 
whereupon,  as  tlie  case  was  urgent,  he  reeldessly  jumped 
into  the  water  and   attempted   to  swiin  to  the  boat.     It 
was  in  tlie  month  of  October,  the  water  was  bitter  cold, 
and  that  portion  of  the  Eliiue  was  a  contimial  wliirlpool  or 
r.'ipid.     The  result  was  tliat  the  current  o])tained  the  mas- 
tery over  him,  and  swei)t  him  down  the  stream  a  distance 
of /re  miles,  when  he  regained  tlie  boat,  which  had  been 
detained  by  an  accident,  and  was  taken  on  board  in  safety. 
iMy  present  o])ject,  however,  is  not  to  inchte  a  biography 
of  the  himented  Leutzt;,  l)ut  simply  to  throw  a  wre^ith  of 
"sorrowing  rue  "upon  his  grave,  betokening  my  acbnira- 
tion  and  love  for  one  who,  as  an  artist,  was  witho.it  a 
suix'i-ior,  in  many  particulars,  either  in  this  or  any  other 
counti'y. 


ir 


^ 


CHARLES   IIEAVYSEGE. 

This  is  the  name  of  the  only  well-known  poet  identified 
with  Canada,  and  he  is  one  whose  intellect,  in  some  par- 
ticulars, is  not  surpassed    in   North  America.     In   18G0 
the  writer  of  this  paper  prepared  a  notice  of  him  for  the 
New  York  Eceninrf  Post,  which  was  the  first  recognition 
of  him  published  in  this  country,  although,  throuj^h  Na- 
thaniel Hawthorne  (then  in  England),  a  criticism^on  liis 
poetry  had  appeared  in  the  "  North  British  lieview,"  two 
years   before.     In  the  "Atlantic  Monthly"  there  suljse- 
quently  appeared  another  review  of  the  new  poet,  written 
by  Bayard  Taylor.     The  tone  of  this  criticism  was  kind, 
manly,  and  appreciative,  but  in  regard  to  matters  of  fact 
connected  with  the  personal  history  of  the  poet  it  contains 
a  few  errors,  which  I  think  proper  to  correct.     Eor  doing 
this  I  have  two  reasons :  the  poet  has  honored  me  with 


|4    . 


\i\ 


IVlii 


•■J 


200 


1 1 A  ril  AZ  ARD    rKllSONALITI  ES . 


V' 


liis  correspoiuk'iice  for  several  yeiirs  past,  and  my  admira- 
tion of  his  a1)ility  borders  on  enthusiasm. 

He  resides  in  Montreal.  By  the  ])eople  generally  of 
that  goodly  city  he  is  spoken  of  as  a  cal»inet-maker,  l)iit 
until  recently  he  has  been  in  reality  a  carver  of  wood  ;  ])y 
men  of  cultivation  who  know  him,  or  liave  read  his  works, 
he  is  recognized  as  a  true  poet,  lie  was  l)orn  in  the  county 
of  Yorkshire,  England,  in  181G  ;  .>as  reared  by  a  religious 
mother;  received  a  limited  education,  and,  from  the  age 
of  nine  years  until  quite  recently,  it  has  Ixien  his  lot  to 
la})or  at  his  trade,  usuallv  from  ten  to  thirteen  hours  dailv, 
and  with  few  intervals  of  relaxation.  In  1843  he  was 
married  ;  in  18;")3  he  emigrated  to  Canada  and  settled  in 
JNIontreal,  and  is  at  the  present  time,  1870,  connected  with 
the  daily  press  of  that  city. 

Though  always  a  close  oTiserver  of  man  and  nature,  and 
ever  feeling  the  strivings  of  i)<)etry  within,  he  has  been 
deprived  almost  entirely  of  those  opportunities  derived 
from  leisure  and  books  which  are  deemed  indis})ensable  to 
tlic  moulding  or  iHrnrislnnoit  of  tlu;  intellect.  What  time 
he  hnd  to  spare  has  been  devoted  to  the  study  of  the  Bible 
and  Shnkespeare.  In  a  literary  sense,  fortune  hns  liitherto 
been  to  him  only  a  stei)-m()ther  ;  but  his  skies  are  now 
briuhtening,  and  it  nnist  be  that  the  time  is  at  hand  wlien 
he  is  to  be  everywhere  acknowledged  as  a  poet.  In 
speaking  of  his  most  elaborate  production,  the  ''North 
British  Review  "says  that  ""it  is  indul)ital»ly  one  of  the 
most  remarkable  English  poems  ever  written  out  of  (Jreat 
Britain,"  and  one  of  its  characters  is  said  to  be  ''de- 
picted with  an  imaginative  veracity  which  has  not  been 
ecpialled  in  our  language  by  any  but  the  creator  of  Caliban 
and  Ariel."  Nor  is  the  "  Atlantic  ^Monthly  "  less  compli- 
mentary,  for  it  says,  in  regard  to  his  last  production, 


T 


W 


r 


wasmm 


CIIAKLKS    IIKAVYSEGE. 


201 


:: 


*'  Much  of  it  iniul.t  liave  l,eeii  writtcMi  by  n  contoinporMrv 
of  Shukespoure  "  ;  uiul,  in  view  of  his  ability,  that  -  never 
was  so  nnicli  ii^enuine  power  so  lon^jr  silent.'' 

The  first  i)()em  publishcKl  by  m.  IFeavyse^re  was  a  ju- 
venile effort,  entitled  -The  Keyolt  of  Tartarus,"  wincli 
\ourr  an-o  (lisappoarcd  from  public  view.     Ilis  second  ap- 
pearance was  as  the  author  of  fifty    som.ets,   published, 
hke    tlie  foregoing,  anonymously.     Tiie  subjects   thereof 
arejiigh  toned   and  various,  :n,<l  their  stvle  subtle,  taste- 
fill,   and  vigorous,     The    glimpses    they  give    us    of    the 
poet's    heart    are    calculated    to  win   our  "alTection  ;    au<l, 
wlnle  none  of  them  can  be  pronounced  perfect,  and  evi- 
dently are  not  as  highly  finished  as  they  inight  be,  yet 
they  abound  in  fine  ideas  (such  as   Laml)  claimed  for  the 
sonnets  of  Sydney),  nnd  in  expressions  of  great  beauty 
mid  power.     Hear,  for  example,  how  the  heart  of  the  poJt 
speaks  of  celestial  music  :  — 

"  Thou  liast  a  spirit,  and  it  shall  not  sleep 

Beneath  tho  hurial  clod, 
But  shall  ascend  into  yon  azure  deep. 

Never  hy  mortal  trod. 
Thou  Shalt  divest  tlice  of  this  ponderous  clay, 

And  soar  thy  passa.^o  to  tlioso  distaut  spheres, 
And  have,  alouii-  tlie  splenchu-  of  the  way, 

Their  music  in  tlnne  ears." 

And  again,  when  looking  sadly  into  the  darkness  of  a 
starless  night,  the  poet  himself  snys  :  — 

"  Upward,  around,  and  downward  I  explore, 
J*^vou  to  the  frontiers  of  the  ebon  air; 
But  cannot,  tliough  I  strive,  discover  more 
■:—^—   -        '^'i'*^"  ^^'l»at  seems  one  huge  cavern  of  desiiair." 

r>ut  inere  flights  of  fancy  are  not  all  that  we  find  o-ood 
HI  these  sonnets,  for,  after  an  allusion  to  the  dawning  day, 
we  have  the  followinti- :  — 


m 


mcyi 


I 


2G2  lIAPILVZAin)    I'KKSONALITIES. 

"So  optMis,  lovel3s  liuinan  life: 

The  infiint  at  tlie  breast 
The  coiiutt'rpart  is  of  that  ray 

Now  I)rc'akinijC  in  tlic  cast. 
So  many  a  i)roject  opens  fair; 

So  iiiany  a  fair  intent ; 
So  cacli  has  in  liis  life's  career 

One  l)ri^ht  occasion  sent; 
]}ut  none  can  in  tlic  niijjht  of  a<^e 

Ketrieve  a  life  misspent." 

Tt  is  due  to  the  untlior,  liowevcr,  that  wo  .should  _<i;ive 
one  or  two  of  his  s(^nnets  (Mitiru,  and  wo  tlicrefore  select 
one  ou  '"'  Dentil  "  niul  jniotlier  on  "•  Nii>]»t"  :  — 

"  Wliy  shonUl  I  die,  and  leave  the  ethereal  night, 

Moonlit,  star-sprent;  this  canopy  of  blue 
]Jlotted  forever  from  my  cancelled  sight. 

Its  lofty  grandeur,  and  its  peerless  hue! 
AVhy  should  I  die,  and  leave  the  glorious  day, 

Sun-l)athed,  and  llannng  in  the  boundless  sky? 
Why  shall  some  nun-row  to  the  iiving  say, 

'  His  ear  is  stopped,  and  ever  closed  his  eye'? 
Tell  me,  oh!  sadness,  speak,  and  tell  me  why. 

Ever  to  sleep,  and  hear  no  more  the  sound 
Of  rival  nations  marching  to  their  goal ; 

To  be  condemned  beneath  the  stolid  ground 
To  rest  unconscious  while  new  eras  roll: 
Oh!  art  thou  mocked  not?  tell  me,  tell  me,  soul." 


ill 


"  The  stars  are  glittering  in  the  frosty  sky, 

Rank  as  the  pebl)les  on  a  broad  sea-coast; 
And  o'er  the  vault  the  cloud-like  galaxy 

Has  marshalled  its  innumeral)le  host : 
Alive  all  heaven  seems  !  with  wondrous  glow 

Tenfold  refidgent  every  star  a[)pears; 
As  if  some  wide,  celestial  gale  did  blow 

And  thrice  illume  the  ever-kindled  spheres. 


l. 


CHARLES    HEAVl'SEGE.  2G3 

How  awful  is  the  u'v^ht  when  thus  it  comes! 

How  terrible  tlie  ;j:raiuleiir  of  its  fjloom, 
When,  in  one  visit,  recklessly  it  sums 

Glory  a  whole  dull  aye  could  scarce  consume. 
Methinks  in  heaven  there's  revelry  to-night, 
And  solemn  orgies  of  unknown  deliglit." 

Tlio  third  and  far  more  important  of  our  poet's  prodiio- 
tiuMs  was  "  Saul :  A  Drama  in  tliree  Parts."  As  the  title 
iudieates,  it  is  fouudeduix)!!  the  cart'cr  of  tlie  great  Heljrew 
king,  oeeui)ies  no  less  than  fourteen  acts,  and  makes  a 
vohime  of  three  hundred  and  twentv-ei'>ii't  octavo  i)a<>os. 
It  was  first  pul)lished  in  jMontreal  in  1857,  and  a  seeond 
edition  in  l.S;VJ.  Tiiough  very  long,  no  lover  of  genius 
can  read  the  first  act  of  the  drama  without  reading  to  tlie 
last  page  ;  and  mimerous  as  are  the  scenes  and  characters 
portrayed,  the  unity  of  its  purpose  will  be  apparent,  and 
the  artistic  yet  simple  management  of  the  wliole  cannot 
but  elicit  admiration,  ^lany  passages  remind  me  of  the 
older  English  dramatists,  and  since  the  appearance  of 
"Pliilip  Van  Artevelde"  and  "Ton,"  I  have  met  with 
nothing  in  modern  dramatic  literature  which  has  afforded 
me  the  real  enjoyment  I  have  derived  from  "  Saul."  It 
is  not  wanting  in  dramatic  effect,  though  some  conven- 
tional critics  might  find  fault  witli  certain  passages  on 
this  score,  and  it  is  remarkal)ly  free  from  the  mannerism 
and  egotism  so  common  in  similar  productions.  'Die 
author  displays  a  most  delicate  appreciation  of  inanimate 
nature,  lias  a  strong  sympathy  for  the  ordinary  feelings 
of  hunnmity  ;  and  there  is  no  sameness  or  monotony  in 
his  delineations  of  human  character,  lie  seems  to  have 
emulated  the  master  minds  of  the  past,  and  gives  us  les- 
sons of  deepest  import  without  sanctimonious  pretensions 
on  his  part. 


204 


IIArilAZAUn    PERSONA  LITIKS. 


To  a  messengei'  who  had  cxprcssi'd  the  liopo  that  Saul 
would  not  fjiil  luH  people  in  hattle,  he  gives  utterauce  to 
these  clarion  words  :  — 

"Let  the  morn  full  to  l)rejik ;  I  will  not  break 
My  word.     Haste!  or  I 'm  there  ])eiV)re  you.     Fall  I 
Let  the  morn  tail  tlie  otist;  I'll  not  fail  you, 
But,  swift  and  silent  as  tlie  streamiiiii;  wind, 
Unseen,  approach;  then,  ;j;atherin,i?  up  my  force 
At  (lawnin;j:,  sweej)  on  Annnon,  as  nifj:ht's  l)last 
Sweeps  down  from  Carmel  on  the  dusky  sea." 

Before  a  battle  the  king  thus  moralizes  :  —        < 

*'  Boy,  hr'uVfi;  my  arms  !  not  now  we  '11  moralize, 
Althouiih  to  li^ht  it  needs  that  some  must  fall. 
When  tliis  day's  work  is  done,  and  serious  night 
Disposes  t')  rellection  antl  gives  leisure, 
We  will  review  tiie  hours  of  the  past  slaughter; 
And,  while  around,  to  heaven  ascends  a  dew 
Distilled  from  1)1()0(1  now  throljbiug  through  its  veins, 
Sorrow  for  whom  we  nmst." 

,  ■     ,      -       ^  -    -I  ■      ■.     " 

And  wdien  flushed  with  victory,  with  what  a  splendid 

thought  does  he  conipliinent  the  valor  of  his  people :  — 

"  But  let  us  sheathe  these  trenchant  ministers ; 
For,  by  the  souls  for  whom  they  have  hewn  a  passage 
Unto  some  far,  mysterious  gehenna, 
Or  to  the  tronl)led  s»'pulchre  of  the  air, 
They  have  well  done." 

Further  on,  after  commenting  upon  the  bravery  of  Jona- 
than, Said  thus  speaks  : — 

"  The  vulgar,  to  whom  courage  is  not  native, 
And  who  have  not  acquired,  by  proud  traditions, 
The  fear  of  shame  and  dainty  sense  of  honor, 
Must  by  religion's  rites  obtain  the  valor 
Which  best  is  carried  ready  in  the  heart." 


I 


4 


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CITAI{M:s    IIKAVVSKr.K. 


2«rj 


Tho  fortuiu'H  of  war  luivo  tunicd  noainst  the  kiiiir ;  niul, 
in  the  followiiio;  how  like  the  brokeu-hearted  Lear  does 
ha  bewail  his  fate  :  — 

.     "  Home,  home,  let  us,  dislionoml  —  home,  if  there 
Be  yet  for  us  a  home,  Jiiul  the  rhilistines 
Drive  us  not  forth  to  iniseral)le  exile. 

Will  they  allow  us,  like  to  a  bre.'ithedharo 

Spent,  to  return  and  repossess  our  fonii? 

Will  they  endure  us  in  (Jiheuh?  or  must  we 

Discover  some  dark  dtm  on  Jvebanon, 

And  dwell  with  lions?  or  must  we  ivith  foxes 

Burrow,  and  depend  on  cunnini;  for  our  food? 

Better  with  lions  and  with  foxes  mating', 

Than  be  companions  of  the  brood  of  Israel; 

Yea,  better  with  the  hill  wolf  famishin,i,s 

Than  battenint?  with  the  drove  that  fonns  the  world." 


I'  ■: 


1 


i 


The  cvoiieral  scope  of  this  drama  is  in  keopincr  with  the 
lii))le   liistory  of   Saul  and   the  leadino-  persona^res   asso- 
elated  with  hlni ;  but  of  course  the  filling  up,  as  it  might  be 
termed,  Is  all  original.     The  boldest  attempt  of  oun>oet, 
^    ,        -„.i.  ,_    ..iv.vAii.^iiig  oijpuiuuiunu  enaracters  ; 
and  ill  one  or  two  of  his  evil  spirits  he  has  been  emhumtlv 
successful.     Indeed  we  fully  concur  with  the  "  North  lirlt- 
ish  lievlew"  wIkhi  it  says  that  ''  sehlom  has  art  so  well  per- 
formed  the    ofhce  of   handmaldeu  to  religion    as   in   the 
extraoi-dinary  character  of  i\[alzah,  In  whom  we  liave  the 
disembodiment  of  the   soul  of   the   faithless,  sophistical, 
brave,  and  generously  disposed  king  of  Israel,  and  a  most 
impressive  poetical  exposition  of  the  awful  truth,  that  he 
who  is  not  wiiolly  for  God  is  against  Iilm." 

Soon  after  the  horrible  death  of  Agag,  two  demons  make 
their  a])pearance  in  the  drama,  when  one  of  them,  satis- 
fied with  what  he  had  witnessed,  suggests  to  his  compau- 


(     : 


u 


;  I 


B^^"^ 


2or> 


IIArilAZAlU)    rKRSONALFTIKS. 


ion  tlijit  tlioy  should  rotiini  to  hell,  when  tlio  other  replies 
us  follows :  — 

*•  Stay !  for  the  road  thereto  is  yet  encumbored 
Witli  tlu!  dcscciuliiij^  spectrcM  of  the  killed. 
'T  is  said  tliey  choke  hell's  jjales,  and  stn  toll  from  tlicncc 
Out  like  a  ton^jue  upon  the  silent  gulf 
Wherein  our  spirits  —  even  as  terrestrial  ships 
Tliat  are  detained  l)y  foul  winds  in  an  ofllng  — 
Linj^er,  perforee,  and  feel  broad  j;usts  of  sij^hs, 
That  swing  them  on  the  dark  and  billowless  waste, 
O'er  which  come  somids  more  dismal  than  the  boom, 
At  midniglit,  of  the  salt  flood's  foaming  surf, 
Even  dead  Amalek's  moan  and  lamentation." 

In  kecpini>;  with  the  :il)ove,  which  would  l)e  a  fit  subjeet 
for  the  pencil  of  Dorc,  on  the  score  of  liorror,  is  tlie  sub- 
joined solilo(iuy,  uttered  l>y  vSaul  when  first  fully  possessed 
by  his  evil  si)irit,  ]\I:dzah  :  — 

•'What  ails  me?  wliat  impels  me  on  until 
The  big  drops  fall  from  olf  my  brow  ?    Whence  comes 
This  strange  allliction?    Oh,  thus  to  be  driven 
About!     I  will  stand  still:  now  move  me  aught 
That  can.     Ali.  shake  me   thing;  siioVo  irjo  -vgnin, 
Like  an  old  thorn  i'  th'  blast !     'T  is  leaving  me ; 
Oh,  that  it  were  forever!     Oh,  how  long 
Shall  this  fierce  malady  continue  tliese 
Dread  visitations.?     See,  't  is  here  again! 
What's  here  again .'  or  who.?    Here  's  none  save  I ; 
And  yet  there's  some  one  here.     'T  is  here, 't  is  here, 
Within  my  brain  :  no,  it  is  in  my  heart  — 
Within  my  soul,  where  rise  again  black  thoughts 
And  horrible  conceptions,  that  from  hell 
Might  have  come  up.     All  blasi)hcmies  that  my  ears 
Ever  heard;  my  horridest  ideas  in  dreams;  .„... 

And  impious  conceits,  that  even  a  fiend 
Mcthinks  could  scarcely  muster,  swarm  within 
Me,  rank  and  black  as  summer  flies  on  ordure. 


1 


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CIlAliLKS    IlKAVlSlCCiE. 


2G7 


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I). 


Oh,  wlmt  ji  (U'li  this  moment  is  my  l)ro!iHt ! 
How  cold  I  fuel,  liow  cruel  and  invitli(ms! 
Now  let  no  cliild  of  mine  api)r()iich  me  ;  neither 
Do  tlioii  come  near  to  m(;,  Aiiinojim, 
The  motlier  and  the  wife  I  dearly  love; 
For  now  the  universe  appears  one  Held 
On  which  to  spend  my  rancor.     Oh,  disperse, 
Fit,  nor  return  with  thy  o'erwhelmin;;  sliadows! 
Oh,  that  it  would  be  gone,  and  leave  me  in 
My  sorrow  !     Surely  't  is  enou,i,'h  to  live 
,    Tn  lone  despair.     To  rei;;n  is  care  enou.i,di, 
Even  in  rudo  health;  ))Ut  to  l)e  harassed  thus 
]Jy  an  unnanuHl  alfection  —  ami  why  harassed? 
Oh,  why  am  I  tlius  harassed?     I  have  heard 
Of  wretcluts  rajj;inuf  under  sharp  remorse; 
Of  cruel  monarchs,  in  their  latter  days, 
Falliiii;  a  prey  to  an  accusiui;  conscience; 
But  why  sliould  I,  wliose  faults  smite  but  myself, 
]5e  thus  tormented  ? " 

A  foAV  pao'tis  furtluM'  on,  and  after  Saul  lias  rocovorod 
from  one  of  lii.s  dreadful  paroxysms,  lie  lias  an  intervii'W 
with  Ills  pliysic'iau,  and  a  part  of  that  dialogue  is  too 
])athoti(.'  to  oniit  in  this  coiiiiuhition  !  — 

Time  is  the  skilfidlest 
Physician,  and  tenderest  nurse. 

But  memory  is  time's  detller. 
To  know  is  not  to  sutler 
Always;  for  wronj?s,  like  men,  jjrow  weak  when 

old-- 
But  I'm  too  bold,  your  majesty. 

I  have  heard  say 
That,  toward  the  west,  a  people  live  believing 
There  is  a  river  that  can  wash  the  past 
From  out  the  memory. 

I  've  travelled  'mongst  them  : 
But  they  l)elieve  'tis  only  after  death 
That  those  dark  waters  can  avail  the  spirit; 


i'uysician. 
Saitl. 

PllVSICIAN. 


Saul. 


Physician. 


m- 

1    I 

i; 

'  _■ 

l:  I 


2G8 


Saul. 


Physician. 


Saul 


I'lIYSlCIAN. 

Saui.. 


IIAriIAZARl>    PERSONALITIES. 

Whicli,  losinji:  tlie  remenibnince  of  past  evil, 
liesiijiis  tlierewilli  the  riemory  of  past  i^ood. 
I  ask  not  such  olylivion  !     But  lu'St  nothing 
That  can  avail  a  mortal  whilst  he  lives ! 
What  are  the  dead  to  thee? 

Your  majesty, 
Here  I  cannot  help  yon  ;  I  have  no  opiate 
'I'hat  can  assiia.ice  the  anguish  of  the  spirit; 
Nor  sul)tlo,  line  astrin;i;cnt,  is  there  l\nown 
Can  binil  the  wanilerini;s  of  a  lawless  fancy  ; 
No  soft,  insimmting  balsam  that 
Can  through  the  body  reach  the  sickly  soul, 
llast  naught,  the.i,  in  thy  dispensatory.? 
T  've  sedatives,  narcotics,  tonics,  too  — 
Give  me  a  tonic  for  the  heart. 


n 


As  1  hnve  iiuMitioiuMl  tlio  name  of  Malznb,  it  is  proper 
that  I  slioiild  oive  the  render  ;i  taste  of  Ills  qiinlities. 
With  the  followino'  Avords,  for  example,  does  lie  conclude 
one  of  liis  iuferiitd  soii^s  :  — 

"  Here  t:mies  my  royal  nuuiiac  in  my  chains, 
I'm  here,  yet  ritling  in  his  brains." 

Again  does  lie  exclaim  in  devilish  delii>lit :  — 

"  His  mine '  s  defences  are  blown  down  by  passion." 

And  aj»'ain  :  — 

"  r  never  knew  a  devil  that  fared  better : 
I  feed  on  a  king's  sighs,  do  tlrink  (piecn's  tcarSj 
Alii  clothed  with  half  a  nation's  maledictions." 

And  lion"  vivid  is  tlilw  deK3cri})tion  of  the  poor  king  as  he 

lies  asleep  upon  a  bed  at  midnight :  — 

"  lie  js  nc.v  sleeping,  but  his  fervent  brow 

Is  all  meandered  o'er  l)y  swt^llen  veins,  

Across  his  temple  one  appears  nigh  bursting. 
He  b.^^'athes,  too,  heavily,  and  a  feeble  moan 
I  hear  within  him  ;  showing  that  his  soul, 


, 


4!, 


OllAKLES   IIEAVYSEGE.  2G9 

(Like  to  a  child  tliut's  wept  itself  to  sleep,) 

J  veil  ill  slumber  doth  retain  its  trouble. 

I  am  loath  again  to  rack  him  ;  but  I  will, 

For  I  am  desperate  to  escape  from  slavery. 

I  will  breathe  hotly  on  his  countenance, 

And  when  he  awakes  and  doth  cry  out  for  water  — 

Which  I  will  make  his  servants  slow  in  bringing  — 

I'll  enter  him  'midst  his  vociferations, 

And  goad  him  back  to  madness." 

Leaving  tills  (leiiiou  to  c:irrv  on  his  warfare  acjaiiist  the 
monarch  of  Israel,  we  run  over  the  pa<>-es  liastily  to  pick 
out  such  In-ief  sentences  as  are  ])articnlarlv  strlkinir  and 
need  no  explanation,  conehidino-  with  one  more  quotation 
from  the  hero  of  the  drama,     Read  the  follow i nir :  — 

"Music 
Moves  l)ut  that  portion  of  us  which  is  good." 

"  He 's  great  who 's  happy  every whcu-e." 

"He  with  his  spear,  which  is  like  a  weaver's  beam, 
Would  stop  the  dancing  shuttle  of  thy  life." 

•'  Oh,  for  a  woman's  shriek  to  cut  the  cords 
That  bind  my  woe  down  on  my  swelling  heart 
Until  I  sullbcate  !     Oh,  let  me  weep  !  " 

"Water  flees 
From  lire;  so  now,  perforce,  gush  forth  my  tears 
Out  of  my  heart  tierce  burning." 

"  For  we  have  conscience  here,  aiul  what  can  we 
Have  worse  hereafter?  " 

♦'  That  last,  worst  state  —  despair  combined  with  fear." 

"  Yes,  presently  there  '11  be  a  sleep 
-  With  thne  enough  to  dream  in." 

Let  us  listen  to  the  poor  king  sioliino;  for  sleep,  and 
then,  after  endni-inir  many  tronbh's  more,  see  him  sink 
into  tha'.  sleep  that  knows  no  waking  ;  — 


§ 


« 


270 


ITArilAZARn    rEUSONALITlES. 


•' There  was  a  time  when  Sleep 
Was  wont  to  approach  nie  with  her  soundless  feet, 
A  lid  take  me  l)y  surprise.     T  called  her  not, 
And  yet  she  *d  come  ;  but  I  even  woo  her, 
And  court  her  l)y  the  cunning  use  of  drugs, 
But  still  she  will  not  turn  to  me  her  steps ; 
Not  even  to  approach,  and,  looking  down, 
Drop  on  these  temples  one  oblivious  tear. 
I  that  am  called  a  king,  whose  word  is  law,  — 
Awake  I  lie  and  toss,  while  the  poor  slave, 
AVhom  I  have  taken  prisoner  in  my  wars, 
Sleeps  soinidly  ;  and  he  who  had  sold  himself  to  service, 
Ah  hough,  his  cabin  rock  beneath  the  gale, 
Hears  not  the  uproar  of  the  night,  but  smiling. 
Dreams  of  the  year  of  jubilee.     I  woidd  that  1 
Could  sleep  at  night;  for  then  T  should  not  hear 
Ahinoam,  poor  grieved  one,  sighing  near." 

He  has  been  mortally  wouuded  in  battle,  and  these  are 
his  last  words  :  — 

"  Now  let  me  die,  for  I  indeed  was  slain 
With  my  three  sons.     Where  are  ye,  sons  !     Oh,  let  me 
Find  ye,  that  I  may  perish  with  you  ;  dying, 
Cover  you  with  my  form,  as  doth  the  fowl 
Cover  her  chickens  !     Oh,  Philistia, 
Thou  now  art  compensated;  now  art  getting 
Rich  with  this  crims(m,  hot,  and  molten  tide; 
That  waits  not  patient  to  be  coined  in  drops, 
But  rushes,  in  an  ingot-forming  stream. 
Out  of  tLe  mine  and  mnitage  of  my  heart ! 
Oh,  n,y  three  poor  dead  sons,  where  are  you?    Ye 
Have  gone  before  me  into  tlie  hereafter 
Upon  such  innocency-rtighted  steps. 
That  1,  witli  feet  :uml)ered  with  clots  of  blood, 
Shall  lose  of  you  all  glimpse,  and  then  my  soul 
Shall  drop  to  the  ab\  -^.     Guch  faster,  Idood, 
And  gallop  with  my  soul  towards  Hades, 
That  yawns  obscure." 


t 


»^  i  I 


t 


CH  A  KL  i:S    1 1 K  A  V  YSEGE . 


271 


The  next  procliictioii  printed  bv  Mr.  Ileavvsefre  was  a 
drama  ill  five  acts,  entitled  "  Count  Filippo ;  or,  Tlie  Uii- 
eqnnl  Marriage."  Tlie  scenery  and  personages  are  Italian, 
though  very  different  in  character  from  the  otlscr  works 
of  the  autlioi',  l)ut  is  nevertheless  well  worthy  of  his  aifted 
pen,  Tlic  plot  is  ])Mii  f  il  and  somewhat  overstrained,  but 
the  storv,  and  the  manner  of  telling  it,  have  a  str;in<re 
power  over  the  reader.  It  was  not  until  after  he  luul  pul)- 
lished  this  poem  that  t)^'>  press  of  Canada  condescended 
to  recogniz(>  the  poet  as  of  sufficient  capacity  to  furnish 
them  with  an  occasional  communicatio-.  on  the  topics  of 
the  day.  While  filling  their  pa[)ers  with  fulsome  praise  of 
snobby  lordlings  from  England,  they  have  not,  for  the 
most  part,  had  time  to  recognize  the  fact  that  the  wood- 
carver  of  Montreal  was  the  leading  intellect  of  their 
Dominion.  And  as  to  encouragement  from  the  Uni- 
ted States,  1  have  never  seen  a  single  copy  of  his 
writings  in  any  library  in  this  country,  excepting  my 
own. 

After  '* Filippo,"  Mr.  Heavysege  published  an  "Ode  on 
Shakespeare."  It  is  in  blank  verse,  contains  nearly  eight 
luindred  lines,  but  is  hardly  worthy  of  the  authorof  ''Saul.'' 
His  last  production,  published  in  Montreal  in  18Gr>,  is  a 
sacred  idyl  of  fourteen  hundred  lines,  entitled  '•  Jephthah's 
])aughter."  As  in  the  case  of  "  Saul,"  the  poet  here  follows 
the  narrative  of  the  Bible.  By  manv  this  poem  will  be  con- 
sidered  the  greatest  and  most  perfect  of  his  productions  ; 
but  I  have  read  "Saul"  so  many  times,  and  with  so 
much  pleasure,  that  I  am  loath  as  yet  to  yield  the  palm  to 
the  new-comer.  If  I  had  not  already  exceeded  my  limits, 
nothing  would  afford  me  more  |)leasui'e  than  to  give  my 
readers  a  score  or  two  of  splendid  passages  from  this 
poem  ;  but   I  must  be  content  with  submitting  a  single 


iKii 


272 


IIAniAZAKI)    PERSONALITIES. 


extract,  in  which  I  find  the  unhappy  daughter  pleading 
^ith  her  more  unhappy  mother  :  — 

"Let  me  not  need  now  disobey  you,  raotlier, 
But  give  me  leave  to  liuoclv  at  Deatli's  pale  gate, 
Whereat,  indeed,  I  must  l)y  duty  drawn. 
By  nature  sliowu  the  sacred  way  to  yield. 
Beliold,  tlie  coastiug  cloud  obeys  tlie  ])reeze; 
The  slautiug  smoke,  the  invisil)le,  sweet  air; 
The  towering  tree  its  leafy  liiubs  resigns 
To  the  embraces  of  the  wilful  wiiul; 
Shall  I,  then,  wrong,  resist  the  hand  of  Heaven? 
Take  me,  my  father!  take,  accept  me,  Heaven! 
Slay  me,  or  save,  even  as  you  Avill! 
Liglit,  light,  I  leave  thee !  yet  am  I  a  lamp, 
Extinguished  now  to  be  relit  forever. 
Life  dies;  but  iu  its  stead,  death  lives." 

If  the  fragments  here  su])mitted  frum  the  pen  of  Charles 
lleavysege  do  not  win  for  him  a  host  of  friends  from  the 
intellectual  circles  of  this  country,  then,  indeed,  shall  I 
be  surprised  and  disai)})ointed. 

After  writing  the  above,  a  new  edition  of  "  Raul"  was 
])ublished  in  Boston,  and,  in  187(5,  this  most  gifted  iK)et 
died  in  IMoutreal.  From  the  correspondence  with  which 
he  has  honored  me,  I  submit  tlu?  followiuii; :  — 


' 


ii^ 


Montreal,  Oct.  12, 1800. 
Dear  Sir, — I  must  beg  pardon  for  my  delay  in  an- 
swering vour  sxcnerous  letter,  which  was  six  wccJis  old 
before  I  got  it  from  our  i)ost-onice  ;  and  since  that  time 
various  circumstances  have  conspired  to  delay  my  reply. 
Your  good  opinion  of  what  I  have  written  gr.'itifu's  me 
much  ;  and  I  gladly  attempt  to  give  you  tlie  sketch  of  my 
historv  which  vou  require,:  I  was  ])orn  in  Kuuland,  as  T 
believe  you  are  aware;  my  ancestors  on  the  paternal  side 


CiTAnLES   IIEAVYSEGE. 


273 


being  of   Yorkshire    (whence   Mr.    Gales  of   the  IntelU- 
yencer).     I  was  wluit  is  usually  styled  relio-iouslv  brou-ht 
"P,  and,  thouoh  my  works  are  dramatic,  tauol^  to  con- 
sider not  only  the  theatre  itself,  but  dramatic  literature, 
even  in  its  best  examples,  as  forbidden  thin-s.     Hence 
when  a  I,oy,  it  was  only  by  dint  of  o-rent  persuasion  that 
1   covertly   obtained   from   my  mother   some   few  pence 
weekly  for  a  cheap  edition  of  Shakespeare  that  was  then 
being  issued  in  parts.     From  the  age  of  nine  until    the 
present  time,  except  a  short  period   spent  at  school,   it 
uis  been   my  lot  to  labor,  usually  from  ten  to    thirteen 
Ws  daily,  and  with  few  or   :    intervals  of  relaxation. 
iMit  I  was   always  tJioughtfr.    r;d  observant  of  man  and 
nature,  and,  from   chiUlhoo...  felt  the  stirrin-s  of  poetry 
wit  nn  me.    These  were  cherished  in  secret  for  many  years^ 
and,  being  of  a  rather  retired  and,  perhaps,  solitary  dis- 
position, I,  until   lately,  wrote   unknown   to  any  except 
those  of  my  own  family. 

The  first  recognition  I  met  with  was  from  the  "i^ortli 
British"  and  "Saturday  Eeviews,"  and  I  believe  some 
others  in    England   that   I  have  not   yet  seen.     "Count 
Filipj)o"  received  a  most  flattering  notice  in  the  New  York 
Albion;  and  Mr.  S.  Stephens,  who  is  just  returned  from 
Boston,  tells  me  that  he  heard  me  very  favorably  spoken 
of  by  Emerson,  Longfellow,  and  :Mr.  Fields  (of\he  iirm 
Ticknor  &  Fields).     Still,  1  am  at  present  unknown,  and 
my  writing,  hitherto,  has  been  under  inconveniences  that 
might   surpi-ise    the  author  who    is  accustomed   to  retire 
into  the  quiet  of  his  study  when  engaged  in  composition. 
Ihat  I  have  often  repined  that  it  should  be  so,  I  will  not 
deny.     In  a  literary  sense,  fortune  has  hitherto  been  ])ut  a 
step-mother  to  me,  but  I  trust  that  better  days  are  in  store 
when   I  may  have  that  leisure  to  see,  study,  and  write, 
18 


274 


HArnAZARD   PEKSONALITIES. 


wliicli  is  all  that  I  crave.  Ai»aiii  thaiikiim'  von  for  vonr 
kind  intention  toward  me,  believe  nie,  with  best  regards 
to  Mrs,  Lanman,  Yours  truly, 

Charles  IlEAVYSECfE. 

P.  S.  Out  of  "  Saul "  T  have  just  fmishod  oondensino-  an 
acting  play  for  a  New  York  manager.  Jf  justice  be  done 
to  it  in  the  perforinance,  1  think  it  will  succeed  ;  anyhow, 
it  is  a  beiilnninii',  and  niav  lead  to  sonu'thini>;  further.  I 
should  be  happy  indeed  to  do  anything  to  elevate  nnd 
refuie  the  stage.  Sliould  vou  hereafter  honor  ine  with  a 
letter,  you  shall  find  th;it  I  appreciate  it  I»y  answering 
promptly.  Could  you  ])<)st  me  a  copy  of  the  article  which 
you  niny  write,  or  inform  me  when  and  iu  what  i)aper  to 
look  for  it?  C.  II. 


11. 


MOXTREAL,  Pol).  11,  ISOl. 

Dear  Sir,  —  Although  so  h)ng  deferred,  tdlow  uie  to 
perform  a  duty  as  well  as  a  pleasure  by  expressing  my 
sincere  tluniks  to  you  for  your  aide  and  judicious  notice  of 
me  and  mine  in  the  New  York  Evenhvj  Post.  I  cannot 
imagine  your  selections  to  have  ])een  better  made,  for  the 
limited  space  at  your  command  (a  remark  which  has  also 
been  made  ])y  others).  I  fear  that  in  the  States  these 
are  scarcely  times  to  pay  attention  to  literary  performances, 
but  your  kind  notice  cjimiot  but  have  effected  its  i)uri)ose  ; 
indeed,  immediately  upon  its  appearance,  i  received  a 
comnmnication  from  one  of  its  readers. 

Once  more,  then,  permit  me  to  thank  you,  and  also  to 
hope  that  the  political  tempest  in  which,  I  suppose,  you  nt 
iiresent  live,  move,  and  have  vour  being,  mav  not  to  vour 
ears  entirely  drown  this   breath  of   uckuowledgment,  so 


CHARLES   IIEAVYSEGE. 


275 


that  it  pass  ()v  you  as  the  idle  wind  that  voii  roc-ard 
not.  With  respects  to  yourself  und  Mrs.  Lanniau,  and 
]ioi)in<r  to  l)e  continued  amongst  your  correspoitdenUj 
believe  me,  Yours  truly, 

Charles  IIeavysege. 

MOXTREAL,  L.  C,  Oct.  2,  1805. 

M}i  dear  Sir,  —  If  it  is  pleasant  to  make  new  friends,  it  is 
still  more  agreeable  to  lind  that  we  yet  retain  the  old  ones. 

Snch  a  pleasure  you  have  just  afforded  me  in  offei'ino-  to 
follow  up  in  the  "  Kound  Table"  the  article  in  the  "Atlan- 
tic," entitled  "The  Author  of  'Saul.'"  To  that  end  I 
iiave  (TVQiit  pleasure  in  presentini)'  you  with  a  copy  of 
"Jephthah's  Danohter"  and  of  the  "  Shakespeare  Ode." 
Of  course  the  idea  of  remitting-  me  tlu;  money  for  tiiese  is 
a  jest,  r  nmst,  indeed,  ask  your  i)ardon  for  my  haviiii;- 
neolected  to  send  you  a  copy  of  them  at  the  time  of  their 
publication. 

You  ask  me  to  tell  you  all  about  myself.  lielieve  me, 
sir,  there  is  no  one  to  whom  I  would  sooner  do  so.  Yet 
what  I  could  with  propriety  communicate  might  not,  at 
present,  so  much  interest  the  public.  What  they  would 
wish  to  learn  is  something  about  my  vrorks,  and  of  course 
your  aim  would  l)e  to  make  them  ac(piainted  with  them, 
according  as  you  think  these  laboi-s  deserve. 

The  few  facts  of  a  l)iogra])hi('al  nature  given  in  the 
"Atlantic"  are  generally  correct,  and  I  well  rememb(>r  the 
writer  calling  upon  me  one  morning  for  a  few  minutes  as 
he  states.  You  will  not  have  quite  forgotten  my  acci- 
dental interview  with  yourself  at  the  house  of  IVFr,  Stei)h- 
ens.  What  I  have  throughout  my  life  had  most  to  regret 
has  been,  and  now  is,  a. want  of  leisure  to  devote  to  prac- 
tical pursuits.     You  will  know  that  to  be  the  reporter  and 


*• 


T 


27G 


ITAPIIAZAIU)   PKllSONALITIES. 


m 


ife  I; 


locjil  editor  of  u  daily  newspaper  does  not  permit  of  tlio 
seizinnj  of  tliose  iii.si)ired  moods,  Avliieh  come  we  know  not 
how,  and  leave  ns  we  know  not  wherefo'e.  I  have  ])een 
for  the  hist  live  years  engaged  in  the  (huly  press  of  this 
city,  with  the  exception  of  one  brief  interval  when  I  re- 
turned to  my  original  callini::.  It  was  during  that  short 
interval  tlnit '' .lephthah's  Daughter  "  was  written.  The 
Ode  was  composed  to  be  delivered  on  the  occasion  of  tlie 
Shakesj)eare  tercentenary  celebration,  in  iM(^ntreal.  It 
was  undertaken  at  the  rcipiest  of  a  few  gentlemen,  the 
l)rincipal  one  of  whom  was,  by  the  by,  an  American  resi- 
dent here.  What  the  "Atlantic"  says  is  true.  Long- 
fellow, Kmerson,  and  Americans  here  and  at  hc^me  have 
been  the  earliest  and  fullest  to  confess  that  they  saw 
something  of  i)romise,  and  even  of  performance,  in  your 
present  correspondent;  and  1  fancy  it  will  be  on  your 
si(U3  of  the  lines  that  I  shall  first  obtain  (if  ever  I  do 
o))tain  it)  a  dcided  recognition,  as  being  one  amongst 
those  who  in  the  present  day  have  written  something  which 
gives  tliem  a  slight  title  to  the  name  of  poet.  Canada 
has  not  a  large  cultivated  class,  and  what  of  such  there  is 
amongst  us  not  only  misdoubts  its  own  judgment,  l)ut  has 
generally  no  literary  faith  in  sons  of  the  soil,  native  or 
ado})ted.  I  often  think  that  if  fortune  had  guided  my 
steps  towards  the  States,  say  Boston,  when  I  l(>ft  England, 
tlie  literary  course  of  my  life  would  have  been  iulluenced 
for  the  l)etter.  But  it  is  too  late  to  regret.  If  vou 
should  prove  instrumental  in  some  degree  in  introducing 
me  to  the  American  public  during  the  reading  season  that 
is  now  about  to  conunence,  I  shall  be  glad.  I  should  like- 
wise feel  obliged  if  you  would  refrain  from  makinij  allu- 
siou  to  any  narrowness  of  circumstances,  either  of  my- 
self or  parents.     Of  conrse  you  know  that  I  have  been, 


LAPAYF/ITK    S.    FOSTKR. 


277 


J"Ml  ;im  now,  one  of  wliat  is  cmIIcmI  tl.o  workinir  dnss,  a 
cMivuinstance  of  wliicli  I  niii  nitluT  proud  tlmn  oihvny\s,>  • 
but  my  father  was  the  heir  to  a  patrinu.nv  which,  fn.n,  m 
••<miantie  ich.i  of  justice,  he,  on  comin-  of  n<re,  sold,  aud 
(hvided  the  i)roceeds  muounst  his  relatives,  aud  so  re- 
duced himself  from  the  couditiou  of  a  veou.an  to  that  of 
one  dependent  npon  the  labor  of  his  own  hands  My 
maternal  grandfather,  too,  wasted  a  small  fortune  in  the 
iiHlulo-ence  of  a  too  gay  and  hospitable  disposition,  which 
eventually  brought  him  to  end  his  days  in  an  infei-ioi- 
l)osition. 

Forgive  me  for  giving  yon  this,  perhaps  suixm-Muous,  can- 
tion,  l,ut  for  so  doing  I  have  family  reascms  which  vou  can 
readdy  nnderstand.  For  the  rest,  you  can  make  what  nse 
you  please  of  these  latter  iten)s  of  information,  if  you 
tinnk  they  will  confer  any  interest  or  grace  on  vour  i)rom- 
ised  notice.  This  will  l)e  the  second  time  von  have  kindlv 
striven  to  serve  me,  and  if  yon  would  seiul  me  a  copy  „> 

the  -  R(mnd  Tal)le"  containing  what  you  shall  t k  lit  lo 

write,  it  will  give  me  another  occasion  of  acknowledo-i,,,.- 
my  obligation  to  you.  AVith  best  respects  to  Mrs.  Laninaiu 
believe  me. 

Respectfully, 

Charles  IIeavysege. 


h 


LAFAYETTE   S.  FOSTER. 

He  was  my  friend,  good  and  true ;  and  T  only  o])ey  the 
impulse  of  my  lieart  when  I  speak  a  loving  word  in  his 
memory.  He  was  a  pure,  gifted,  higli-toned,  and  noble 
Christian  gentleman;  and  T  am  proud  to  record  the  fact 
that,  by  the  ties  of  marriage,  he  was  allied  to  my  father's 


I  I 


278 


II ArilAZ.MM)    PKUSONALITIKS. 


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1 

^ 

kk 

1 

i 

hi 

fMinilv,  liMviii'''  iiiiiriu'il  oiu'  of   his  sistiTS.      Hi'  w:is  Itoni 
in   Frniikliii,  New  Luiidoii  County,  Conn.,  Nov.  22,  isod, 
and  died  lit  Norwich,  Sv\)t.  IJ),  1<S.S0.     His  f.-ithcr,  Diuru'l 
Foster,  served  with  honor  as  a  captain  in  thi'  Hevohition- 
arv  war,  and  was  a  diivtt  descendant  of  IMih'S  Standisli. 
His  niotlior  was  a  woman  of  rare  excellence,  and  worthy  of 
her  noted  son;   and  it  is  a  pUiasant  recoHection  that,  be- 
fore reinovin<i'  into  tlie  eU\i2:ant  house  in  wliicli  lie  died,  he 
provided  for  tluit  mother  and  a  sister  a  comfortable  liome 
wherein  tu  spend  theirdays  in  jx'ace.    While  preparin<r  him- 
self for  college,  he  tanght  in  one  of  tiie  schools  of  Norwich  ; 
j:^radnated  at  IJrown  I'niversity  in   lH2^f;  and,  while  })re- 
paring  himself  for  the  life  of  a  lawyer,  tanght  in  an  acad- 
emv  in   the   State   of   Maryland,   in   which   State  he   was 
admitted  to  the  l)ar,  and  td'tcrwards  admitted  to  that  of 
Conneeticnt.     In   1885  he  had  the  editorial  charge  of  a 
newspapi'r  in  Norwich;  but  the  employment  was  not  con- 
genial, and  he  soon  relinipiished  the  position.     In  IS.)?, 
after  a  h)ng  intimacy  with  tlu'  family,  he  married  »Joain»a 
Boylston  Lanman,  dangiiter  of  the  Hon.  .lames  Lanman, 
by  whom  he  had  three  children,  all  of  whom  died  at  an 
early  age  ;   and  his  wife  also  died  in   18.")!).     She  Avas  a 
most    accomplished    and    amiable    woman, — for   several 
years  my  own  especial  guardian,  —  and  did  much  to  pro- 
mote her  husband's  interests  and  hai)piness,  not  only  in 
Connecticut,    ])ut,    also,    while    he     was    a    resident    of 
^Vashington.     The   calamities    which  befell  his  domestic 
circle,    however,    notwithstanding    his    marked    Christian 
character,    had    a    depressing    effect    on   his   subsecpient 
life.     In  1881)  he  was  elected  to  the  State  Legislature,  to 
which  he  was  six  times  re-elected,  and  was   Si)eaker  for 
three  years.     In  184G  he  visited  Europe,  and  in  18al  was 
made  a  doctor  of  laws  by  Brown  University.     In  1854  he 


LAFAYKTTE    S.    FOSTKU. 


279 


w.'iH  cU'ctcd  to  the  United  Stiiti'S  Seinitc,  where  ho  wa.s  a 
retM)nnize(l  lender  for  twelve  years,  serving  on  the  most 
ini[)ortunt  coinniittees,  and  two  years  as  IVesident  y/ro  fen 
and  aeting  Vice-rresident.  IJel'ore  the  IJehelMou,  lie  was 
ready  to  make  many  concessions  ;  hut  aftOr  the  war  had 
connnenced,  he  was  a  most  earnest  defender  of  the  I'nion, 
though  never  hitter  in  his  feelings.  He  was  [)resent  at 
the  hattle  of  liull  Hun,  hut  only  as  a  spectator;  and  it  is 
not  yet  a  settled  (luest  ion  whether  he,  Zachariah  Chandler, 
and  Alfred  Kly  returned  to  Washington  all  on  the  same 
horse,  or  on  foot  with  rare  ra[)idity.  From  what  sul)- 
seciuently  happened,  that  little  affair  at  Bull  Kun  would 
seem  to  have  inspired  a  regular  spirit  of  adventure;  for, 
a  few  years  afterwards,  as  the  head  of  a  Senate  committee, 
he  went  on  an  exijcdition  among  the  Indians,  and  actually 
himted  the  JJuffalo  hulls  on  the  Western  prairies;  and  the 
stories  which  Senator  Doolittle  used  to  tell  of  their  exi)loits, 
for  he  was  on  the  same  comnuttee,  were  amusing  in  the 
extreme. 

In  1.S70,  ]\Ir.  P'oster  was  again  elected  to  the  State  Legis- 
lature, and  soon  afterwards  was  made  a  justice  of  the 
Supreme  Court  of  the  State,  having  retired  in  LSTG.  After 
the  close  of  his  lii-st  term  as  a  judgi',  he  visited  Europe; 
ami  so  careful  was  he  m)t  to  neglect  his  duties  that  he 
came  home  to  sit  out  a  second  term  of  the  court,  and  theu 
went  back  to  iinish  his  European  toui-.  lie  was  offered  a 
professorship  in  Yale  College  ;  and,  though  he  declined  the 
honor,  he  suhseciuently  delivered  a  series  of  law  lectures 
before  the  students  of  the  college,  and  by  his  will  endowed 
a  professorship  on  English  law  in  that  institution  He 
took  a  special  interest  in  all  the  local  affairs  of  his  ntitive 
county.  be(iueathed  his  law  library  for  the  benefit  of  the 
public,  and  the  valuable  property  which  was  his  home  to 


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HAPHAZARD    PERSONALITIES . 


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the  Free  Academy  of  Norwich.  He  took  an  active  part 
in  many  religious  organizations  ;  did  not  tliink  it  beneath 
nis  dignity  to  teach  a  Bible  class  in  the  church  to  whicli  lie 
Ix'longed  ;  and  the  last  of  his  addresses  to  the  public  was 
delivered  on  the  Cth  of  September,  1880,  at  the  Fort  Gris- 
wold  celebration,  only  thirteen  days  l)efore  his  death. 

The  collected  speeches,  orations,  and  lectures  delivered 
])y  this  model  statesman  and  lawyer  would  be  a  great 
acquisition  to  our  national  literature  ;  and  it  is  to  be  hoped 
tliey  will  be  published  in  due  time.  He  was  one  of  those 
who  never  went  out  of  his  way  to  gain  popularity,  and 
thougli  cautious  in  all  liis  pul)lic  acts  and  sayings,  he  was 
always  honest  iind  independent. 

My  ac(piaintance  with  IVfr.  Foster  began  in  the  year 
1833,  when  I  frequently  met  him  in  Norwich,  at  the  Sat- 
urday family  dinners  of  my  grandfather,  James  Lanmtin, 
one  of  whose  daugliters,  as  already  stated,  sul)se(iuently 
became  his  wife,  and  under  whose  loving  protection  it  was 
my  lot,  as  a  boy,  to  live  for  two  or  three  years.  His 
early  career  as  a  lawyer  was  most  satisfactory,  and  he 
rose  with  rai)idity  to  the  position  of  a  leader  at  the  Nor- 
wich bar.  He  was  chiefly  engaged  in  the  higher  clnss  of 
cases,  in  the  whole  of  Eastern  Connecticut ;  and  his  ha])it 
was  to  prosecute  them  with  the  utmost  energy.  As  a 
pleader  he  was  argumentative  and  serious ;  and,  Avliile 
his  fees  witli  rich  men  w^re  highly  renunierative,  he  was 
always  ready  to  protect  or  assist  a  poor  client  without 
rennmeration. 

His  prolonged  services  as  a  State  legislator  were  of  such 
a  character  that  his  transition,  without  passing  through  the 
national  House  of  liepresentatives,  to  the  Senate  of  the 
United  States  was  the  most  natural  of  events  ;  and  how 
be  conducted  himself,  both  as  a  seutitor  and  tis  X'l'esideut 


LAFAYETTE   3.    FOSTER. 


281 


of  the  St'iiiite,  is  a  part  of  oiir  honorable  national  liistory  ; 
and  it  was  according  to  tlie  fitness  of  tilings,  that  he  shonld 
have  passed  from  the  Senate  to  a  seat  on  the  Lencli  of  his 
native  State. 

It  WIS  while  he  resided  in  Washington,  however,  that  I 
met  him  most  freqnently,  aiu  iind  the  best  opportnnities 
to  stud}'^  his  character.  As  a  se.ic.  tor  lie  was  industrious, 
conscientious,  and  never  left  any  of  his  public  duties  un- 
done, as  is  the  almost  universal  and  very  pernicious  habit  of 
the  average  senator  and  representative  of  the  present  day. 
He  was  proud  of  the  State  which  he  represented,  and  its 
humblest  citizens,  who  might  visit  the  metropolis,  were 
treated  with  the  utmost  consideration.  His  habits  were 
those  of  the  scholar  and  man  of  culture,  but  he  always 
had  a  pleasant  w^ord  for  those  who  occupied  more  humble 
spheres  in  societ}'.  As  a  presiding  ollicer  he  was  digni- 
fied, quick,  fully  posted  in  regard  to  all  parliamentary 
rules,  and  strictly  impartial  in  his  decisions.  For  the 
high-living  customs  of  Washington,  which  have  so  fre- 
quently ])rought  disgrace  upon  men  in  high  positions,  he 
had  a  perfect  abhorrence.  As  a  party  man  he  was  true  to 
principle,  and  had  the  b(;ldness  and  the  integrity,  when 
necessary,  to  condemn  what  he  thought  wrong  in  the  eon- 
duct  of  his  own  party  ;  and  I  very  well  rememl)er  liis 
scathing  rtbuke  of  a  certain  official  of  the  Senate,  whom 
he  had  discovered  to  be  directly  interested  in  a  measure 
which  Jiad  passed  into  a  law  ostensibly  for  the  j)ublic  wel- 
fare. He  never  made  any  sanctimonious  professions,  but 
he  was  a  practical  l)eliever  in  the  religion  of  the  liible. 
Witii  men  of  thought,  on  suitable  occasions,  he  delighted 
to  converse  upon  all  those  themes  which  naturally  attract 
the  true  statesman.  On  the  other  hand,  when  in  the  com- 
pany of  ladies,  and  the  occasion   was  sui talkie,  nothing 


ill 


,!^f 


Mi   • 


282 


IIAI'IIAZARD    I'ERSONALITIES. 


II.  ; 

h 


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I  ! 


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i 


II 1 


d('li<!,liUMl  liiin  more  tliiiii  to  have  a  frolic  in  the  way  of 
repartee,  when  his  pk>astintries  and  harnik'ss  wit  were 
sure  to  surprise  and  (h'light  all  who  happened  to  be 
present.  Generally  speakino-,  h.is  conversation  was  sedate, 
howevci',  and  in  the  seat  of  the  Vice-President  often  cold 
and  solemn  ;  but  his  enjoyment  of  a  liood  lau<»ii  was  some- 
thing almost  uni(pie,  convulsive  in  its  character,  and  m:i<>- 
netic  in  its  effects  upon  others.  When  in  a  frolicsome 
mood  he  did  not  wait  fen-  something  ridiculous  to  give  him 
a  start,  and  a  (lescri[)tion  which  I  once  heard  him  recite  of  a 
truly  fearful  railroad  accidi'ut  in  one  of  the  Southern  States, 
when  he  came  within  an  ace  of  being  killed,  was  as  good  as 
a  comedy.  In  all  particulars,  he  was  an  exalted  and  well- 
balanced  character,  and  his  death  was  a  national  calamity. 
The  correspondence  with  which  Mr.  Foster  honored  me 
during  our  long  acquaintance  was  cpiite  frequent ;  but  in 
looking  over  his  letters,  I  find  that  thev  would  not  interesi; 
the  public,  or  throw  any  light  upon  his  character,  as  the}' 
are  all  connected  with  business  or  family  affairs.  I  regret 
this  circumstance  most  sincerelv  ;  but  I  have  no  doubt 
that  there  is  ample  correspondence  in  other  hands,  which 
will  be  utilized  in  any  memorial  of  his  life  whicli  may  be 
prepared  hereafter,  a  volume  for  private  circulation  having 
already  been  prnited  by  his  second  and  surviving  wife. 


CHARLES    DICKENS   AND   WASHINGTON 

IRVING. 

The  friendship  which  existed  between  these  two  dis- 
tinguished authors  was  intimate  and  long  continued,  and 
as  free  from  the  alloy  of  selfishness  as  anything  of  the 
kind  recorded  in  literary  history.  What  little  I  happen 
to  know  concerning  their  kindly  feelings  for  each  other, 


CIIAKIKS    DICKKNS    AND    WA8in]S(;TON    lUVIN(i. 


283 


iiml  now  propose  to  submit  to  tlio  pii])lle,  may  be  con- 
sidered as  a  bappy  eonebisioii  to  the  story  of  tlieir  inter- 
macy  as  contained  in  their  correspondence,  liitlierto  pub- 

Hslied. 

The  intercourse  between  them  commenced  in  LSI  1 ,  wlien 
Mv.  Irving  was  in  his  lifty -eighth  yenr,  and  Mv.  Dickens 
had  attained  precisely  half  that  number  of  years,  twenty- 
nine.     The    American  took   the  lead  and  wrote    a  letter 
expressing  his  heartfelt  delight  with  the  writings  of  the 
En«»iishman,  and  his   vearniiigs  toward  him.     The   reply 
was  minute,  impetuously  kind,  and  eminently  character- 
istic.    ''There  is  no   man  in  the  world,"  said  Mr.  Dick- 
ens, "who  would   have  given   me  tin;  heartfelt  pleasure 
you  have.   .  .   .  There   is  no  living  writer,  and  there  are 
very  few  among  the  dead,  whose  approbation  1  should  feel 
so  proud  to  earn.     And  with  everything  you  have  written 
upon  my  shelves,  and  in  my  thoughts  and  in  my  heart  of 
hearts,  I  may  honestly  and  truly  say  so.     If  you  could 
know  how  earnestly  I  write  this,  you  would  be  glad  to  read 
it,  as  I  hope  you  will  be,  faintly  guessing  at  the  warmth 
of  the  hand  I  autohhxjraphicuUu  hold  out  to  you  over  the 
broad  Atlantic.   ...  I  have  been  so  accustomed  to  asso- 
ciate you  with  my  pleasantest  and  happiest  thoughts,  and 
with  my  leisure  hours,  that  I  rush  at  once  into  full  confi- 
dence with  you,  and  fall,  as  it  were  naturally,  and  by  the 
very  laws  of  gravity,  into  your  open  arms.   ...  I  cannot 
thank  you  enough  for  your  ccn'dial  and  generous  praise,  or 
tell  you   what  deep  and  lasting  gratification  it  has  given 


nie 


?> 


In  the  winter  of  1842,  and  while  the  literary  pul)lic  of 
New  York  was  congratulating  Mr.  Irving  on  his  ap- 
pointment as  minister  to  Spain,  the  tide  of  excitement 
suddenly   turned   toward    Mr.    Dickens,    who    just   then 


i; 

■-Ik' 

■ !  ;  :  ' 

■    i  ' 

ill! 


'  i 


I 
I' 


•I 


2H1 


IIAl'IIAZAKD   rEKSONALITIES. 


arrived  in  tlie  city  of  B'^siton.  Then  it  was  tliat  the  two 
hons  first  met  face  to  face  ;  and  for  a  few  weekn,  at 
Sunnvside,  and  in  the  deliiihtfnl  literary  society  whicli  was 
a  striking  feature  of  New  York  life  at  that  time,  they  saw 
as  nuK'h  of  each  other  as  circumstances  would  allow.  Pro- 
fessor C.  C'.  Felton,  in  his  remarks  on  the  death  of  Mr.  Irv- 
ing, before  the  Historical  Society  of  Massachusetts,  gave 
us  some  interesting  recollections  of  this  winter  in  New 
York.  ADiong  other  things,  he  said:  "I  passed  .mich 
of  the  time  with  Mv.  Irving  and  INIr.  Dickens  ;  and  it  was 
deliL''htful  to  witness  the  cordial  intercourse  of  the  young 
man,  in  the  flush  and  glory  of  his  fervid  genius,  and  his 
elder  compeer,  then  in  the  assured  possession  of  immortal 
renown.  Dickens  said,  in  his  frank,  hearty  manner,  tliat 
from  his  childliood  he  had  known  the  works  of  Irying  ;  and 
that  before  he  thouuht  of  coming  to  this  country,  he  had 
received  a  letter  from  him,  expressing  the  delight  he  felt 
in  reading  the  story  of  x^ittle  Nell." 

But  the  crowning  event  of  the  winter  in  ({uestion  was 
the  great  dinner  given  to  Mr.  Dickens  by  his  admirers  at 
the  old  City  Hotel.  I  was  a  mere  boy  at  the  time,  a 
Pearl  Street  clerk,  but  through  the  kindness  of  certain 
friends  the  honor  was  oranted  to  me  of  taking  a  look  from 
a  side  door  at  the  august  array  of  gifted  authors  before 
they  were  summoned  to  the  sumi)tuous  table.  It  was 
only  a  glimpse  that  I  enjoyed  ;  but  while  jNIr.  Irving,  as 
l)residing  host,  was  sacrificing  his  sensitive  nature  for  the 
gratification  of  his  friend,  and  was,  by  breaking  down  in 
his  speech  of  welcome,  connnitting  the  only  failure  of 
his  life,  I  retired  to  the  quiet  of  my  attic  room,  and  spent 
nearly  the  whole  of  that  night  with  "  Little  Nell,"  the 
"  Broken  Heart,"  and  "  Marco  Bozzaris,"  and  drinking 
iu  the  beauty  and  the  comforting  philosophy  of  "  Thaua- 


CHARLES   DICKENS   AND  WASHINGTON  IRVING. 


285 


M 


topsis,"  nil  of  tliein  the  iiuitelilcss  creations  of  autliors 
>vlioiii  it  hud  just  been  my  privilege  to  see.  The  little 
speech  which  Mr.  Dickeus  delivered  oil  that  occasion  was 
hapi)y  in  the  extreme,  proving  not  only  that  he  wms 
,  familiar  with  the  writings  of  Mr.  Irving,  but  that  he 
placed  the  highest  value  upon  them  ;  and  before  taking 
his  seat  lie  submitted  the  following  toast:  "  The  TAtera- 
ture  of  America :  She  Avell  knows  how  to  honor  her  own 
literature,  to  do  honor  to  that  of  other  lands,  when  she 
chooses  AVashington  Irving  as  her  representative  in  the 
country  of  Cervantes." 

Soon  after  the  New  York  dinner,  business  called  Mr. 
Irving  to  Washington,  and  Mr.  Dickens  made  his  arrange- 
ments to  be  there  at  the  same  time.  At  that  place  they 
renewed  their  friendly  intercourse,  laughed  toiiether  at  the 
follies  of  the  politicians,  enjoyed  the  com})anionship  of 
the  great  triumvers,  Webster,  Clay,  and  Calhoun,  and 
were  of  course  victimized  at  the  President's  receptions. 
On  one  occasion  the  honors  were  certainly  divided  between 
the  two  rjj thors ;  and  while  we  know  that  Mr.  Dickens 
had  no  reason  to  complain  of  any  want  of  attention  on 
the  part  of  the  people,  it  is  pleasant  to  read  his  comments 
upon  the  conduct  of  the  assembled  company  toward  INIr. 
Irving.  "I  sincerely  believe,"  said  he  in  his  "  American 
Notes."  "  that  in  all  the  madness  of  American  politics, 
few  public  men  would  have  bean  so  earnestly,  devotedly, 
and  affectionately  caressed  as  this  most  charmini!;  writer ; 
and  I  have  seldom  respected  a  public  assein'oly  more  than 
I  did  this  eager  throng,  when  I  stiw  them  turning  with  one 
mind  from  noisy  oi-ators  and  otiicers  of  state,  and  flock- 
ing, with  a  generous  and  honest  impulse,  around  the  man 
of  quiet  pursuits  ;  proud  in  his  promotion  as  reflected 
back  upon  their  country,  and  grateful  to  him  with  their 


111 


u 


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HAPHAZARD   PERSONALITIES. 


I 


it  ! 


I  ■ 

f'li' ' 


Hi' 


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4- 


fp 


i:^i 


whole  hearts  for  the  store  of  graceful  fancies  lie  had 
poured  out  among  them."  From  Washington,  jNFr.  Dick- 
ens went  upon  a  trip  to  Richmond,  and  on  his  return  he 
made  a  doubtful  api)()intnient  to  meet  Mr.  Irving  in  lialti- 
more,  and  to  tliat  meeting  I  sliall  liresenlly  reeur.  In  tlie 
mean  time  I  must  quote  a  single  paragraph  from  a  letter 
tliat  he  wrote  as  a  reminder  to  Mv.  Irving  :  "  Wliat  pleas- 
ure 1  have  had  in  seeing  and  talking  with  vou  1  will  not 
attemi)t  to  say.  I  shall  never  forget  it  as  long  as  I  live. 
What  ivouhl  I  give  if  we  could  have  but  a  quiet  week  to- 
gether !  Si)ain  is  a  lazy  place,  and  its  climate  an  indolent 
one.  lint  if  you  ever  have  leisure  under  its  sunny  skies 
to  think  of  a  man  who  loves  vou,  and  holds  comnninic^n 
with  3V)ur  spirit  oftener,  perhai)s,  than  any  other  person 
alive,  — leisure  from  listlessness  I  mean,  —  and  will  write 
to  me  in  London,  you  will  give  me  an  inexpressible 
amount  of  pleasure." 

In  1853  it  was  my  privilege  to  si)end  a  day  with  Mr. 
Irving  during  his  last  visit  to  AVashington,  and  in  an 
account  of  it  whicl'  I  published  in  Once  a  Week,  in  Lon- 
don, occurs  the  f(Mlowing:  ''He  touched  u[)on  literary 
men  generally,  and  a  bit  of  criticism  on  Thackeray  seemed 
to  me  full  of  meanins:.  He  liked  the  novelist  as  a  lee- 
turer  and  a  man,  and  his  books  were  capital.  Of  his 
novels  he  liked  '  Pendennis,'  most ;  '  Vanity  Fair '  was 
ful  of  talent,  but  many  passages  hurt  his  feelings ; 
'  Esmond  '  he  thought  a  queer  affair,  but  deeply  interest- 
ing. Thackeray  had  quite  as  great  genius  as  Dickens, 
but  Dickens  was  genial  and  ivarm,  and  that  suited 
Mm.'' 

And  now  comes  a  letter  addressed  to  me  by  Mr.  Dick- 
ens, during  his  last  visit  to  this  country,  and  as  introduc- 
tory to  which  the  preceding  paragraphs  have  been  written. 


CHARLES   DICKENS   AND   WASHINGTON   IRVING. 


287 


In  view  of  the  allusion  to  myself,  I  must  plead  the  saying 
that  ''it  is  sometimes  almost  excusable  for  a  man  to 
commit  a  little  sin  for  the  purpose  of  securing  a  greater 
good." 

Washington,  Feb.  o,  1868. 

My  dear  Sir,  —  Allow  me  to  thank  you  most  cordially 
for  vour  kind  letter  and  for  its  accomi)anvin<ij  V)<)()ks.  I 
have  a  particular  love  for  l)0()ks  of  travel,  and  shall  wan- 
der into  the  "■  Wilds  of  America"  with  great  interest.  I 
have  also  received  your  charming  sketch  with  great  plea- 
sure and  admiration.  Let  me  thank  vou  for  it  heartilv. 
As  a  beautiful  suggestion  of  nnture,  associated  with  this 
country,  it  shall  have  a  quiet  place  on  the  walls  of  my 
house  as  long  as  I  live. 

Your  reference  to  my  dear  friend,  Washington  Irving, 
renews  the  vivid  impressions  reawakened  in  my  mind 
at  Baltimore  the  other  day.  I  saw  his  fine  face  for  the 
last  time  in  that  city.  He  came  there  from  New  York,  to 
pass  a  day  or  two  with  me  before  I  went  westward,  and 
thev  were  made  among  the  most  memorable  of  mv  life  by 
his  delightful  fancv  and  genial  humor.  Some  unknown 
admirer  of  his  books  and  mine  sent  to  the  hotel  a  most 
enormous  mint  julep,  wreathed  with  flowersc  We  sat, 
one  on  either  side  of  it,  with  great  solenmity  (it  filled  a 
respectable  sized  round  ta1)le),  l)ut  the  solemnity  was  of 
very  short  duration.  It  was  quite  an  enchanted  julep, 
and  carried  us  among  innumerable  people  and  places  that 
we  both  knew.  The  julep  held  out  far  into  the  night,  and 
mv  memory  never  saw  him  afterward  otherwise  than  as 
bending  over  it  with  his  straw  with  an  attempted  gravity 
(after  some  anecdote  involving  some  wonderfully  droll 
and  delicate  observation  of  character),  and  then,  as  his 


•i 

1 

■1  ■■ 

1 

■  ii 

M 

288 


IIAPIIAZAnr)    rKUSONALlTlES. 


oyo  t'jiui^lit  miiu',  melting  into  tliut  captivutiug  huigh  of 
liis,  vvliich  was  tlic  l)riglitt'8t  juul  best  I  have  ever  hejircl. 
Dear  sir,  with  many  thanks,  faithfully  yours, 

Charles  Dickens. 


tii. 


u 


h^ 

LL 

Mr.  R.  Shelton  Mackenzie,  in  a  pleasing  comment  on 
this  letter,  makes  this  remark:  "The  enchanted  julep 
was  a  gift  from  the  proprietor  of  Guy's  Hotel,  Baltimore, 
and,  '  having  held  out  far  into  the  night,'  nuist  lu;ve  been 
on  a  magnilicent  scale  tit  first ;  large  enough  for  Gog 
and  Magog,  were  they  alive,  to  have  become  mellow 
upon.  George  Cruikshank  or  II.  L.  Stevens,  no  inferior 
should  dare  attempt  it,  might  win  additional  fame  by 
sketching  the  two  authors,  so  much  akin  in  genius  and 
ger.iality,  imbibing  the  generous,  mellifluous  fiuid  from  a 
pitcher  which,  like  the  magic  purse  of  Fortunatus,  seemed 
always  full." 

WILLIAM  A.  BUCKINGHAM. 

I  WOULD  throw  a  single  flower  upon  this  good  man's 
grave.  I  first  heard  of  his  illness  about  ten  da^^s  before 
his  death,  and  my  first  impulse  was  to  write  to  him  a  sym- 
pathizing letter  ;  and  his  reply,  written  in  February,  187r), 
contained  the  following  paragraph  :  — 

"  My  nervous  system  has  become  very  much  prostrated  ; 
and,  while  I  cherish  the  hope  of  being  able  to  reach  Wash- 
ington before  the  close  of  the  present  session  of  Con- 
gress, yet  the  prospect  is  not  very  flattering." 

In  view  of  the  present  aspect  of  our  national  affairs,  I 
look  npon  the  death  of  such  a  man  as  a  great  calamity. 
He  was  an  honest  man,  pure,  unselfish,  clear-minded,  a 
lover  of  his  fellow-men,  charitable,  ever  influenced  by  lofty 


WILLIAM    A.    BTTCKINnilAM. 


280 


a 


aspirations,  a  true  Christian,  an  eniineutly  useful  eitizon, 
and  an  honor  to  his  State  and  country.  IVIv  ac'(|uaintant'e 
Avith  him  l)egan  wlien  I  avms  a  })oy  and  attended  a  Sunday 
sehool  in  Norwich,  Conn.,  of  whieli  he  was  for  many  years 
the  superintendent.  His  winning  manners  as  a  speakt'r, 
his  kind  admonitions  to  the  wayward  boys,  and  his  knowl- 
edge  of  the  Bible,  all  mnde  sueh  a  deep  impression  on  my 
mind  that  1  haye  neyer  forgotten  them  during  the  inter- 
vening forty  3'ears.  Long  afterwards,  when  ui)on  a  trout- 
ing  expedition  among  the  hills  of  his  natiye  Lebanon,  I 
chanced  to  meet  him  under  the  roof  wliere  lie  was  born  ; 
and  I  well  remember  with  what  careful  considerMtion  he 
treated  his  aged  })arents,  and,  ])y  his  presence,  filled  their 
liome  with  sunshine,  which  home,  by  the  way,  the  li<j:ht- 
i.iing  haci  a  chronic  habit  of  assaulting,  but  without  ever 
doing  any  special  harm. 

During  the  days  of  the  old  Whig  party,  Mr.  Bucking- 
ham took  an  interest  in  pul)lic  affairs,  and  the  speeches  lu^ 
was  wont  to  utter  alw-ys  had  the  rini"'  of  pure  metal ;  and 
his  inlluence,  which  was  paramount,  caused  liim  to  be  fre- 
(piently  elected  mayor  of  Norwich.  For  a  short  time, 
when  he  kept  the  most  extensive  dr^^-goods  store  in  Nor- 
wich, I  was  one  of  his  clerks  ;  and  I  remeni])er  that  his 
careful  and  upright  way  of  doing  l)usiness  was  most  intlu- 
ential,  both  within  and  without  his  estal)lishment,  "When 
he  subsequently  l)ecame  eminently  successful  as  a  manu- 
facturer, he  spent  his  money  with  marvellous  libei'ality  in 
promoting  the  cause  of  religion  and  education,  and  in 
secretly  helping  the  deserving  poor.  As  one  of  the  "war 
governors"  during  the  Hebellion,  he  had  no  supericn- ;  and 
he  made  his  wisdom  and  patriotism  felt  throughout  the 
length  and  breadth  of  the  hind.  As  a  senator,  he  was 
dignified,  kind,  always  anxious  to  be  right,  bold  in  follow- 
19 


!' 


V    '■ 

1,1 


Id! 

t 


200 


ITArTIA7Am>   PETISONAT-ITIES. 


111^  tlic  lino  of  duty,  and  in  ail  his  synipntliios  was  far 
riMuovccl  from  the  crowd  of  connnon  })artis:ins  and  dunia- 
g()<:;ui'H. 

The  j»;ood  deeds  of  this  departed  man  nii«;ht  ])o,  counted 
l)V  tlie  lunidred,  but  liis  negative  qualities  will  be  remem- 
bered to  his  credit,  lie  was  too  unsus[)('('tiu<j;  in  his  na- 
ture to  ])e  useful  in  that  extensive  depjutment  of  modern 
American  loiiislation  known  as  investi<:;!itin^  committees  ; 
lie  never  used  his  inlluence  as  a  public  man  to  put  money 
in  his  own  pockets  or  those  of  his  family  and  friends  ;  he 
was  not  one  of  those  who  could  take  i)leasure  in  any  kind  of 
fasliioMa])le  debjiucherv  ;  nor  was  he  one  of  those  men  who 
pretend  to  be  what  they  are  not,  or  to  know  about  things 
of  which  they  are  ignorant ;  he  never  delivered  speeches 
when  he  had  nothing  to  say  ;  and  long,  commonjjlace  rig- 
maroles, permeated  with  the  narrow  si)irit  of  the  dema- 
gogue, Avere  things  for  which  he  had  a  holy  horror.  It 
would  seem  as  if,  for  the  sake  of  our  counti'y,  such  men 
as  Senator  lUickingham  "  should  be  living  at  tlii.'-.  hour"  ; 
and  the  conclusion  of  AVordsworth's  sonnet  on  Milton  was 
as  applicable  to  the  uni)re tending  but  highly  honored 
American  citizen,  as  it  was  to  the  great  poet:  — 

♦*  So  didst  tliou  travel  on  life's  common  way, 
In  cheerful  godliness ;  and  yet  tliy  heart 
The  lowliest  duties  on  herself  did  lay."    ' 


JOHN   F.   T.    CRAIMPTON. 


t 


NuMKROTTS  an*l  very  pleasant  are  the  recollections  which 
I  cherish  of  this  accomplished  man.  He  first  came  to 
Washington  as  charr/e  (Vafalres,  from  England,  in  1847; 
was  sul)sequently  made  a  full  minister,  received  the  honor 


JOHN   F.   T.    CHAMITON. 


291 


of  kni<.'htlioo(l,  niul  nftor  nii  lioiionihle  career  in  Kussiii 
and  in  S[)Min,  was  retired  upon  n  pension,  and  settled  in 
Ilia  native  Ireland  for  the  hidanee  of  liis  d;ivs.  His 
fatlier,  Pliilip  ('r!ini[»ton,  was  an  eminent  surn;('ou  in 
Ireland,  and  he  luul  m  l)rother  who  stood  hiiih  as  ;i  clcrirv- 
man  in  the  Kstahlishcd  Chureh  of  Kn^lund. 

I  heeameaeqnainted  with  him  in  1H'>0,  at^Ir.  Webster's 
t;d)h',  nnd  I  was  perhaps  the  hist  friend  who  shook  his 
lanid  ])rior  to  his  sudden  departure  from  Wnshinu^ton. 
The  fiict  that  we  were  ])oth  fond  of  fishing  and  of  [);iint- 
ing  (hi'w  us  together  from  the  start,  nnd  l)oth  of  those 
])ursuits  we  enjoyed  in  company  during  his  entire  sojourn 
in  tills  country.  If  I  could  pilot  him  to  the  best  pools  in 
the  Potomac  for  Hy-fishing,  he,  on  the  other  hand,  h:»d  the 
power  of  rewarding  me  in  a  princely  manner  by  his  con- 
versation on  the  fine  arts  ;  1)ut  as  to  the  sketching  grounds 
where  we  studied  nature,  I  think  our  discoveries  were 
about  ecpnd,  for  lie  was  a  famous  e\'i)l<)rer  of  retired  and 
])eantiful  nooks  in  the  local  scenery.  On  many  occa.sions, 
when  the  weather  was  favoral)le,  we  visited  the  Little 
Falls  before  breakfast  (and  once,  I  remember,  he  cap- 
tured not  less  than  thirty  rock-fish)  ;  on  the  afternoon  of 
the  same  day  we  have  taken  a  drive  in  his  open  carriage, 
and  each  produced  a  sketch  ;  and  in  the  evening  would 
follow  an  elegant  dinner  at  the  legation,  and  a  long  and, 
to  me,  very  instructive  conversation  npon  art,  illustrated 
with  his  treasures  in  the  way  of.  engravings,  etchings, 
drawings,  and  paintings.  Ills  ability  as  an  artist  was  re- 
markable, and  he  produced  water-color  drawings  and  oil 
paintings  with  ecpial  facility,  and  that  facility  was  great. 
He  painted  pictures  chiefly  for  the  pleasure  the  emi)loy- 
ment  afforded,  and  T  have  seen  him  destroy  his  })roductions 
by   the   dozen ;    and   among   the   pictures   which   I   now 


;■    ;  ( 


'.    : ;  i 


I 


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P       ;  1 


.      — ^ 

1  ^ 

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P"         'f-i 

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292 


HAPHAZARD    PERSONALITIES. 


■   i 

Hi 

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t. 

i 

possess,  and  which  I  rescued  from  the  floor  of  his  studio, 
I  may  mention  a  setiside  and  a  view  of  Killurney  in  water 
colors,  two  market-women  in  the  rain,  and  a  portrait  of 
himself  in  oil.  The  only  things  from  his  own  pencil 
which  lie  seemed  to  value  were  a  series  of  etfects  in  color 
which  he  liad  copied  from  the  old  masters  in  the  leading 
galleries  of  Kni'ope. 

The  state  dinners  which  Mr.  Crampton  gave  were  grand 
affairs  ;  big  men,  senators  and  foreign  diplomats,  attended 
them,  and  of  course  they  were  often  stupid ;  but  the 
private  dinners  were  enjoyable.  It  was  at  one  of  these 
that  1  met  voung  liulwer,  before  he  had  ])lossomed  into  a 
poet  as  Owen  Mereditli;  he  was  at  tliat  time  an  atturhe  to 
the  legation,  and  when  I  afterwards  read  his  lirst  ])ook  of 
poetry,  I  was  simply  astonislied,  for  1  had  not  anti(;ipated 
a  mind  of  such  strengtli  in  such  a  quiet  little  l)ody  as  he 
hiid  ai)peared  to  me  ;  and  when  I  afterwards  saw  liim  ga- 
zetti'd  as  the  viceroy  of  India,  ami  head  and  front  of  the 
Afghanistan  war,  my  amazement  knew  no  bounds.  That 
all  the  world  do  not  thiiik  him  a  gi'cat  man  is  proven 
by  the  fact  that  the  erratic  i)oet,  Swinburne,  calls  him 
"  Prett}!  little  Lytton^  with  his  muse  in  mulT  and  mitten." 
The  two  gentlemen  who  acted  as  INIr.  Crampton's  chief 
secretaries,  during  his  residt'uce  in  Washington,  were  John 
Savile  Lumley  and  Philip)  (Jrilllth,  both  of  whom  have 
since  distinguished  themselves  in  the  diplomatic  service. 
The  first  was  an  artist  and  an  angler,  and  accompanied 
me  in  one  of  my  fishing  tours  to  New  Brunswick.  ]Mr. 
Grillitli  was  a  man  of  high  culture  and  distinguished  for 
his  conversational  powers. 

Among  the  men  of  note  whom  I  met  at  Mr.  Crampton's 
table  was  Sir  Ednuind  Head,  whon>.  I  had  seen  liefore  at 
Fredcrickton,  New  Brunswick,  and  from  whom  I  had  re- 


JOHN   F.    T.    CRAMPTON. 


203 


cc'ivcd  soino  favors  hcariiiir  upon  tlie  Sfilinon  streams  of 
the  Province.  He  was  fond  of  art,  and  an  adept  with 
the  pencil ;  and  one  day,  after  he  had  been  lookin<r  over 
my  sketclies  from  nature,  he  joined  Mr.  Crampton  in  com- 
l)limentin<r  them,  and  tohl  this  tnitli,  —  that  my  finislied 
pictures  did  not  by  any  means  equal  my  studies  in  tho 
fields  and  woods.  Some  of  my  autumn  subjects  he  fan- 
cied in  particular,  and  my  vanity  was  such,  at  the  moment, 
that  I  told  him  to  help  himself  to  all  he  wanted.  He 
irromptly  and  cordiaUi/  complied  with  my  re(iuest ;  and 
since  then  I  have  frecjuently  had  occasion  to  regret  my  fit 
of  liberality,  although  glad  that  anything  from  my  pencil 
should  have  been  taken  to  England. 

Among  the  hol)bies  that  INIr.  Crampton  emi)loycd  to 
gratify  his  taste,  while  in  this  country,  was  the  forming 
of  a  collection  of  European  caricatures  ;  jind  when  ^Y.  M. 
Thackeray  was  in  AVashington,  two  large  ])oxes  of  these 
comical  pictures  were  received  by  Mr.  Crampton,  nnd  the 
novelist  was  present  at  the  opening.  Fresh  as  hb  was 
from  London,  Mr.  Thackeray  found  many  things  in  this 
collection  which  he  had  never  before  seen  ;  and,  f(^r  two 
days,  he  devoted  almost  his  entire  time  to  their  examina- 
tion. The  result  was,  that  at  a  subsequent  dinn.er,  given 
by  Mr.  Crampton,  the  deponent  enjoyed  a  most  learned 
and  entertaining  conversation,  between  the  host  and  his 
distinguished  guest,  on  the  history  of  pictorial  sarcasm  ; 
and,  in  a  few  months  thereafter,  an  jirticle  made  its 
appearance  on  the  subject,  in  one  of  tiie  british  quarter- 
lies, from  the  pen  of  the  celebrated  wit  and  novelist. 
Another  thing  which  attracted  the  special  attention  of  Mr. 
Thackeray,  during  his  visit  to  the  metropolis,  was  the 
residence  itself  of  Mr.  Crampton,  on  the  Heights  of 
Georgetown.     The  building  was  large,  and  had   all  the 


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294 


IIAPIIAZAllD    rKUSONALITIES. 


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comforts  of  an  old-fiishioned  mtinsion  ;  and  it  stood  in  the 
midst  of  a  grove  of  splendid  oak-trees,  eonnnandino;  n 
snperb  view  of  Wasliin<2;t()ii  and  the  broad  bosom  of  the 
Potomac.  It  was  for  many  years  the  home  of  tl»e  hite 
Jolm  Carter.  After  Mr.  Crampton  k'ft  it,  it  was  (K'('iii)i,'d 
by  the  French  ministers,  Count  Sartiges  and  M.  IMeicivT, 
havin<>-  been  burned  while  in  the  possession  of  the  hitter, 
and  the  locality  became  the  pro[)erty  of  Henry  D.  Cooke, 
the  governor  of  the  District  of  Colum])ia. 

The  art  treasures  which  IVIr.  Crampton  delighted  to 
gather  around  him  consisted  chiefly,  as  already  intimated, 
of  line  engravings,  etchings,  and  water-color  drawings. 
His  engravings  were  numerous,  some  of  them  exceedingly 
fine  ;  l)ut  the  entire  collection  was  not  ecpial  to  that  which 
formerly  belonged  to  George  P.  INFarsh  ;  his  collection  of 
etchings,  however,  was  unsurpassed  in.  this  country,  and 
was  especially  rich  in  Ivembrandts ;  and  in  the  way  of 
water-colors,  his  collection  was  very  vahnible  and  rai'e. 
His  favorites  were  David  Cox  and  Copeley  Fielding,  and 
he  owned  some  of  their  best  productions.  The  arrival  of 
a  new  picture  from  England,  for  he  was  constantly  re- 
ceiving them,  was  (juite  an  important  event  at  the  lega- 
tion, and  connected  with  one  of  them  I  have  this  anecdote. 
On  the  day  it  was  received,  ]Mr.  Crami)ton  wrote  me, 
"  The  David  Cox  is  arrived,  and  my  cook  has  discovered 
a  live  lobster,  which  1  shall  be  glad  if  you  will  partake  of 
in  the  shape  of  a  salad,  at  seven  o'clock  this  evening." 
I  went,  and  almost  the  flrst  thiijg  he  told  me  was  the  storv 
of  the  uni)acking.  At  the  moment  the  picture  was  taken 
out  of  the  box  at  the  front  door,  one  of  our  stalwart 
Western  senators  made  his  appearance,  rolling  up  in  a 
splendid  carriage  with  coachman  in  livery.  He  looked  at 
the  picture  and  was  greatly  pleased ;  he  thought  it  the 


■ 


/  n 


JOHN    F.    T.    CRAMITON. 


295 


finest  colored  engraving  he  had  ever  seen,  and  as  he  pre- 
sumed thev  could  be  obtained  for  about  ten  doUars  each, 
he  asked  Mr.  Cranipton*  to  order  three  or  four  of  these 
pictures,  as  they  would  '••  look  beautiful"  in  his  wife's  best 
parlor.  Now  the  picture  whieli  had  inspired  this  wonder- 
ful liberality  from  the  ^  Yahoo,"  represented  a  lonely 
scene  among  the  mountains  of  Wales,  with  two  bulls 
about  to  meet  in  a  combat ;  and  the  sum  paid  for  it, 
by  Mr.  Crampton,  was  one  thousand  dollars.  The  fear- 
ful ii»;noranee  of  that  American  senator  would  have  been 
startlin*::  even  in  a  flashy  novel. 

Cj  */ 

Mr.  Cranii)ton's  admiration  of  that  English  master  was 
most  intense  ;  the  simplicity  of  his  su])jects  and  Ins  l)old 
handling  were  all  that  could  be  desired ;  and  yet  his  love 
of  C'opeley  Fielding  w^as  intense,  and  the  second  place  of 
honor  in  his  drawing-room  was  assigned  to  that  artist,  and 
to  a  magnificent  coast  scene  with  passing  storm.  Mr. 
Crampton's  idea  of  pictures  was  that  they  should  be  so 
painted  tliat  they  could  ])e  enjoyed  from  a  distance,  even 
from  a  chair  in  the  centre  of  the  room.  He  also  admired 
the  coarse  brown  paper  upon  which  Cox  painted,  and  he 
repeated  some  anmsing  comments  uttered  by  a  London 
tradesman,  who  had  laughed  at  the  idea  of  selling  his 
trashy  paper  to  the  great  artist. 

The  notes  and  letters  which  I  received  from  Mr.  Cramp- 
ton  were  numerous;  and,  whilst  I  would  not  overstep  the 
bounds  of  propriety,  I  will  venture  to  submit  in  this  place 
a  few  characteristic  sentences. 

"  I  have  the  honor  to  introduce  a  brother  sportsman, 
inclosed."  (This  was  in  allusion  to  a  splendid  ])()ok  on 
"  Salmon  Fishing  in  Ireland,"  written  and  pi'intcd  for 
private  cireulati(m,  by  a  friend  of  his  named  U'Gor- 
man.) 


r  n 


;     I 
t    . 


II  ■ 


m 


.1  h'i 


tl 


206 


IIArilAZARD   TEllSONALITIKS. 


**I  send  3'ou  the  '  Calderou  Cigars'  luid  the  rest  of  the 
books  ;  and  wonid  be  oblii^ed  if  vou  wonld  kst  me  h)ok  tit 
Iljirdinjy's  '  Ehunentarv  Art.'  " 

"'Mr.  Perlev  and  liis  son  dine  with  me  to-dav  at  seven 
o'clock ;  and  I  shonUl  be  very  ghid  if  you  would  join  the 
party,  in  order  that  we  may  have  some  '  fish  talk.' " 

"  I  should  be  delii»:hted  to  0:0  on  anv  fishing  or  sketch- 
ing  excursion  to-day.     I  can  start  at  any  time  j^ou  like." 

"  I  will  be  ready  at  four  o'clock  to-morrow  morning." 

"Give  me  the  pleasure  of  your  com})any  to  dinner  at 
six  o'clock,  and  I  shall  l»e  happy  to  sliow  you  some  more 
of  the  etchiuirs.  I  caught  six  liandsome  rock-fish,  last 
evenin'g,  with,  the  flv." 

"  I  have  great  pleasure  in  sending  you  a  letter  of  intro- 
duction to  Lord  Elgin  (the  result  of  which  is  elsewhere 
recorded),  who,  I  am  sure,  will  do  all  he  can  to  forward 
your  views  and  i)r()ceedings,  artistical  and  piscatorial,  in 
Canada.     I  sincerelv  envv  vou  your  trip." 

"  1  return  you  the  manuscript,  which  I  would  correct  l)y 
blotting  out  some  of  the  too  flattering  expressions  of  the 
dedication  ;  however,  we  have  the  authority  of  old  Iznak 
Walton  for  tlie  exaltation  of  anglers  ;  for  vou  recollect 
he  says,  after  giving  a  receipt  for  coc^king  a  fish,  '  This  is 
a  dish  of  meat  fit  only  for  kings  —  or  anglers.'  Will  you 
help  me  eat  an  English  pheasant  at  seven  o'clock?"  etc. 

Between  Mv.  Cnimi)ton  and  ^Mr.  AVebster  there  existed 
a  most  cordial  intimacy,  and  I  presume  it  is  no  secret  that 
our  secretary  had  nnich  to  do  Avitli  the  promotion  of  his 
friend  to  the  rank  of  minister  plenipotentiary.  It  was  a 
letter  which  Mr.  Webster  wrote  to  Lord  Palmerston  tliat 
probal)ly  did  the  business  ;  but,  of  course,  Die  British  gov- 
ernment was  quite  aware  of  the  fact  that  the  honor  was 
well  merited. 


T 


JOHN   F.   T.    CRAMITON. 


21)  7 


Duriiii^  the  summer  piveedini?  Ills  doiitli,  Mr.  "Webster 
invited  jNFr.  Cramptoii  to  visit  iNIurshfield  "  witli  as  many 
adjuncts  as  lie  i)leased."  Tlie  object  of  tliis  meeting  was  to 
consult  a])out  the  fishery  questions  which  tluvatencd  trouble  ; 
and  the  minister  and  his  secretary,  Mr.  Clrillith,  were  prompt 
in  accepting  the  invitation.  It  was  my  good  fortune  to  bo 
at  jMarshlield  at  the  time  ;  and,  for  about  a  fortnight,  the 
twelfth  sign  of  the  zodiac  was  complete  master  of  the  situa- 
tion. AVitli  Mr.  Crampton,  early  on  one  particular  morning, 
I  caught  trout  in  a  neighboring  stream.  During  the  middle 
of  tlie  dav,  all  the  visitors  joined  Mr.  Webster  and  Seth 
Peterson  in  a  stiil  over  the  ])lue  waters  to  the  haddock  or 
codfish  grounds  ;  and  during  the  evening,  at  dinner,  or  on 
the  piazza,  fish  stories  and  serious  talk  about  thi;  threat- 
ened troul)les  with  Canada  were  the  order  of  the  time. 

AVith  Mr.  Everett,  during  liis  brief  service  as  Secretary 
of  State,  Mr.  Crampton  was  also  intimate  ;  l)ut  between 
him  and  the  next  Secretary  of  State,  Mr.  IMarcy,  there 
was  no  intimacy  and  no  friendsliii).     With  all  his  ability 

t,  1  •, 

and  knowledije  of  books,  Mr.  ]Marcy  was  reallv  notliiniz: 
but  a  j)()litician  ;  and  this  was  proven  ])y  his  oflicial  treat- 
ment of  Mr.  Crampton  on  account  of  the  alleged  enlist- 
ment of  men  in  this  country  for  the  Crimean  war.  Tiiat 
j\[r.  Crampton  left  Washington  suddenly  and  in  disgust  is 
not  to  be  questioned  ;  and  the  last  thing  that  he  did  before 
his  de[)arture  was  to  present  me  with  his  whole  stock  of 
fishing  tackle  and  much  of  his  studio  furniture.  It  was 
the  opinion  of  JNfr.  (ieorge  Ticknor  that  the  British  minis- 
try was  responsil)le  for  that  enlistment  business,  not  Mr. 
Crampton  ;  and  he  has  re[)orted  the  following  character- 
istic opinion,  uttered  by  one  of  Mr.  Crampton's  particular 
friends:  ''•Thackeray,  who  has  a  strong  personal  regard 
for  him,  was  outrageous  on  the  matter,  and  cursed  the 


ill 

■:  f, 
it' 

f  ;■■: 


■if 


'.:    ! 


298 


1JA1'1IAZAU1>    I'KUSONAI.ITIKS. 


i     „ 
)  :  .-i 


t 


.1 
'  (■■ '  '  I 

,!  f    .    ' 
ii'-  _ 


iiiP 


liiiiiistrv,  by  all  liis  gods,  for  nuikiiig  him,  us  be  said,  their 
scupegotit." 

liiit  my  recollections  of  JMr.  Crjunptou  are  so  intimately 
associated  with  his  two  ollicial  friends,  that  I  must  allude 
to  them  again  Mr.  Grillith  iirst  came  to  AVashington 
as  secretary  of  legation,  had  full  charge  for  about  one 
year,  and  was  subsequently  transferred  to  Brazil  as  chartjc 
cVaffaires.  lie  was  a  most  genial  and  accomi)lished  man, 
and  very  fond  of  riding  ;  and  I  remember  that,  during  one 
of  my  rides  in  his  company,  he  told  me  that  if  a  man  who 
was  obliged  to  travel  on  horseback  in  the  rain  would  care- 
fully keep  his  knees  covered  with  a  leathern  pad,  it  would 
greatly  add  to  his  comfort,  and  keep  him  fn^m  taking  cold. 
A  very  beautiful  bronze  inkstand  which  he  prescMited  to  me 
I  have  had  in  constant  use  for  the  third  of  a  eenturv. 

AVith  regard  to  Mr.  Lumley,  he  also  had  charge  of  the 
Washington  legation  for  a  time,  and  was  so  rji[)idly  pro- 
moted that  he  was  the  British  envoy  to  Saxony,  Switzer- 
land,  l)elgium,  and  Spnin.  Having  ])een  interested  in 
some  of  my  salmon-fisliing  adventures,  he  proposed  to 
accompany  me  on  one  of  my  expeditions  to  the  Nepisiquit 
in  New  Brunswick.  After  we  h:id  been  on  the  river  for 
about  a  week,  and  domiciled  in  a  log-(^anq)  which  had 
been  built  for  me  during  a  previous  summer,  I  was  obliged 
to  leave  on  account  of  sickness,  and  return  home  ;  and 
among  the  letters  which  he  wrote  to  me  from  the  wilder- 
ness soon  afterwards  were  the  following,  preceded  by  one 
from  Washiuo;ton  :  — 

Washington,  Juno  22,  1853. 

My  dear  Sir^  —  T  have  been  al)sent  for  a  few  days,  and 
on  mv  return  found  your  very  kind  letter,  which  will 
account  for  my  not  having  answered  it  before.     Uufortu- 


.'V 


JOHN   F.    T.    CUAlMrrON. 


299 


natcly,  it  is  out  of  my  i)ower  to  accept  your  uiost  amluble 
invitation  to  pass  a  few  days  with  you  at  Norwicli ;  nothing 
could  have  given  mc  greater  pleasure,  but  ]Mr.  Cranipton's 
aKsence  renders  it  inipossil)le  for  nie  to  leave  till  his  re- 
turn. I  expect  him  here  on  Sunday,  and  on  Monday,  the 
2f)th,  shall  take  my  departure  for  New  York  and  IJoston, 
•where  I  shall  l)e  on  the  27th,  one  day  before  the  appointed 
time.  I  have  been  out  fishing  twice  since  I  saw  vou,  and 
the  last  time  was  unfortunate  enough  to  break  the  U)[) 
joint  of  my  (ieorgetown  rod.  I  shall  try  and  get  one  for 
it  in  New  York  or  Boston.  J\Iv  l)ai>'  and  rods  start  to- 
morrow  by  Adams  Express  for  Boston.  I  have  lixed  my 
paint  box  as  nearly  like  yours  as  possible,  only  mine  is 
lighter.  Crampton,  I  find,  is  thinking  of  going  to  England, 
bo  that  it  is  possible  I  may  receive  a  telegra[)hic  message  at 
Bathurst,  before  our  fishing  excursion  is  over.  I  sincerely 
hope  not,  how-ever.  Pray  present  my  best  respects  to  Mrs. 
Lanman  ;  aud  believe  me,  my  dear  sir, 

Y^ours,  very  sincerely, 

J.  Savile  Li^mlf.y. 


CAMr  AT  Pa  PINE  ATT  FALLS. 

My  clear  Lanman.,  —  I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you  for 
your  note  and  the  despatch  which  it  contained,  as  well  for 
as  my  reel,  which  is  capitally  fixed.  I  greatly  regret,  how- 
ever, that  you  should  be  o])liged  to  leave  just  at  tlK> 
moment  when  the  sport  appears  likely  to  be  good  and  the 
mosquitoes  less  troublesome,  and  still  more  to  be  deprived 
of  the  pleasure  of  your  society.  We  have  succeeded  in 
circumventing  our  worst  enemies,  the  mosquitoes,  by  light- 
ing an  immense  fire  at  the  back  of  the  camp  and  three 
others  in  front,  aud  cleared  them  out  so  effectually  that  we 


I' 


». ' 

m 

!t 


800 


IlArilAZAUD   PEKSONALITIKS. 


wi'i'e  able  to  sleep  without  veils  and  smoke  in  the  camp. 
This  morning  1  went  out,  after  a  most  perfect  nigiit's  rest, 
antl  killed  a  grilse  before  breakfast ;  the  day  is,  however, 
so  wet  that  1  shall  remain  for  the  rest  of  the  day  under 
my  mosquito  net. 

Of  course,  as  you  have  been  obliged  to  quit  the  river  so 
soon,  I  cannot  allow  you  to  pay  for  any  portion  of  the  pro- 
visions, etc.  ;  but  I  shall  be  nuich  o))liged  if  you  will  let 
me  know,  by  return  of  post,  the  exact  arrangement  that 
you  made  with  Young,  —  how  much  a  day,  and  whether 
he  and  his  sons  are  engaged  by  the  day  or  the  month.  I 
have  paid  Oliver  and  Joe  Vino  three  dollars  1)et\veen 
them,  which  I  suppose  was  your  intention  ;  the  latter  does 
not  seem  to  be  satisfied.  I  should  also  wish  to  know  how 
much  you  agreed  to  pay  the  cook,  and  what  the  postman 
is  to  receive  each  time  he  comes  up  from  Bathurst.  T 
shall  remain  here  probably  till  Thursday  or  Friday,  and 
then  go  up  to  the  Crrand  Falls  with  JNIr.  Rogers,  stopping 
at  the  Chain  of  Rocks  or  Middle  Landing  on  the  wav.  1 
hear  that  Lilly's  men  —  and  the  people  who  accompanied 
the  other  party  up  to  the  Falls  —  have  fallen  out  and  ({uar- 
relled,  so  that  things  are  not  likely  to  be  im[)roved  by  the 
arrival  of  seven  men  more  ;  and  I  tliink  Ave  shall  come  back 
to  the  quiet  enjoyment  of  the  mos(piitoes  of  Papineau  Falls. 
Mr.  Rogers  wants  to  go  to  the  Falls  of  St,  John,  by  the 
Restigouche  and  the  Tobique  ;  and  1  shall  prol)ably  accom- 
i)anv  him,  if  not  summoned  to  Washini>ton.  Mr.  Bovd 
hooked  two  salmon,  and  took  both  ;  so  that,  in  fact,  I  have 
caught  more  than  any  one  else,  except  yourself.  "With 
many  thanks  for  all  the  information  you  have  so  kindly 
furnished  me  with,  believe  me,  my  dear  Lanman, 

Yours  very  truly, 

J.  S.  LUMLEY. 


fl 


JOHN   F.    T.    CIIAMI^ON. 


301 


Lanman'.s  Cami',  Papineau  Falls, 
July  10, 1855. 

M}i  dear  Lanman^  — A  heavy  rain  has  so  lillod  tlio  river 
that  it  has  put  a  stop  to  all  sport  at  present.  I  remain, 
however,  in  the  same  ol)stinate  frame  of  mind  as  when 
you  left,  and  am  determined  to  remain  here  until  tiie 
river  is  in  proper  state  to  give  me  a  chance  of  winning 
some  piscatorial  laurels.  The  mosquitoes,  after  htiving 
given  us  one  day's  grace,  have  returned  to  the  attack  with 
greater  violence  than  ever ;  what  makes  me,  however, 
much  more  uncomfortable  is  the  position  in  which  I  found 
mvself  towards  IVIr.  Ixogers.  Of  course,  after  vour  Iiav- 
ing  welcomed  him  to  the  camp,  the  least  I  could  do  after 
vou  \\'m\  given  it,  or  willed  it,  as  vou  said  to  me,  I  could  do 
no  less  than  give  him  the  same  welcome  to  it,  and  to  onr 
camp  at  the  Fjilis.  I  now  find,  however,  that  he  considers 
you  to  have  made  him  a  present  of  the  camp  ;  and,  after 
having  invited  him  to  be  my  guest,  I  find  he  considers  me  to 
])e  his  guest.  We  are  on  perfectly  amicable  terms,  but  it  has 
produced  an  awkward  feeling  in  my  mind,  which  I  cannot 
get  over,  until  I  hear  from  you  the  retd  state  of  the  case. 
I  suppose  that  you  said  he  was  welcome  to  tlu;  camp  in 
the  sense  of  a  guest,  but  he  evidently  took  it  in  another 
sense  ;  and  in  such  a  sense  that  I  fancy  lie  would  not  1)e 
satisfied  to  the  contrary,  unless  he  saw,  in  black  and  white 
in  your  own  writing,  that  you  had  giveii  it  to  me,  but  h;id 
Avelcomed  him  to  it,  which  T  suppose  was  your  real  inten- 
tion. Pray  pardon  me  for  troubling  you  on  this  head, 
which  T  should  not  do  did  T  not  feel  myself  in  a  false 
posititm.  Pray  remember  me  to  Mrs.  Lanman,  and  believe 
me,  most  sincerely,  3'our  very  mosquito-bitten  friend, 

J.  Savile  Lfmley. 


ill- 


ji 


!S 


1-, 


■i 

'.I 


\h\ 


s\ 


Urii 


nr^ 


302 


IIAPIIAZAIII)    PERSONA UTIES. 


Vii 


i  ■ 


Grand  Falls,  July  22,  ISoS. 

Ml/  (loar  Larihtdti,  —  I  arrivt'd  hero  last  niji-ht,  huviug 
killccl  one  grilst;  lu'Cort'  leaving  the  I*ai)inL'au  Fails  in  tlu; 
iiioniing,  and  one  grilse,  and  one  salmon  of  eleven  pounds, 
at  the  Middle  Landing.  I  ])roke  my  rod  there,  and  pushed 
on  to  the  chain  of  rocks,  intending  to  pass  the  night  there, 
but  found  the  mosciuitoes  so  mimerous,  so  large,  jind  so 
hungry,  that  I  was  forced  to  beat  Ji  rapid  retreat.  I  came 
through  the  rapids  of  the  ^Middle  Landing  in  the  canoe,  as  I 
wanted  to  see  lu^w  it  behaved  in  rough  water,  and  was 
delighted  with  it.  I  met  INIr.  Lilly,  fishing  at  the  chain  of 
rocks,  and  he  told  nie  that  they  liad  not  had  a  single 
good  day's  lishing  till  ^Monday  last ;  that  the  i)ools  had 
})een  so  full  thtit  there  was  no  doing  anything  ;  so  that  on 
the  whole  I  was  well  pleased  at  remaining  l)elow,  where  I 
killed,  all  together,  live  salmon  and  six  grilse,  besides  a 
host  of  fine  trout. 

This  morning  I  left  the  camp  at  7  a.  m.,  and  went 
straight  t.  the  Grand  Falls,  which  I  had  all  to  myself;  and, 
in  little  more  than  an  hour,  killed  three  fine  salnum  trout, 
and  one  salmon  of  thirteen  pounds.  The  fish  were  not 
rising  freely,  and  I  laid  nn'  rod  down  and  made  a  couple  of 
sketches  on  the  other  side  of  the  river,  and  was  hard  at 
work  when  Kogers's  canoe  came  to  tell  me  that  an  express 
had  arrived  with  an  imi)ortant  letter  for  me.  Making  cer- 
tain that  it  was  my  recall,  I  could  not  help  congratulating 
myself  on  having  seen  and  sketched  the  Falls  ;  but  on  ar- 
riving at  the  camp,  T  was  most  agreeably  surprised  at  re- 
ceiving from  Sever  your  letter  of  the  14tli  inst.  1  was  very 
sorry  to  hear  that  you  are  still  suffering  from  the  waters  of 
the  River  of  Foam  ;  but  I  hope  by  this  time  that  your  native 
air  will  have  restored  you  to  perfect  health.  1  am  very 
much  obliged  to  you  for  your  kind  invitation  to  pay  you 


m 


JOHN   F.    T.    rUAMITON. 


no3 


a  visit  on  my  return,  and,  if  I  am  not  sent  for  in  a  hurry, 
1  will  not  fail  to  avail  mysi'lf  of  it.  'V\n\  oix'U  t'ani[)  at  tlio 
Grand  Falls  is  i)eri\!t't,  —  fine*  air,  rather  cold  at  ni^ht, 
however,  thanks  to  which  we  have  scarcely  any  mos(iui- 
toes  ;  so  that  I  slept  last  night  without  mos(iuito  curtain  oi 
any  otluu-  protection  than  my  shawl.  The  water  is  })cifc(!t-. 
and  there  is  a  stillness  and  rej)ose  about  the  whole  })lacc 
which  is  charmiui"':  the  river  steals  alon<»'  in  mvstei'ious 
silence  at  the  foot  of  the  steep  bank  on  which  our  camp 
is  placed,  contrasting  stronglv  with  the  noisv  rush  ot 
the  waters  of  Papineau,  where  I  could  almost  fancy  I 
heard  the  bustle  of  a  populous  city.  I  am  not  going  to  thu 
Restigouche,  as  Rogers  starts  on  Tuesday  ;  but  if  the  tiles 
are  not  too  bad  I  may  go  up  to  the  lakes  at  the  head 
of  the  river,  and  down  the  Tobicpie  to  St.  John's  Falls 
alone.  There  is  so  nmch  to  di'aw,  however,  here,  that  if 
the  flies  continue  as  amicable  as  they  now  are,  I  may  have 
a  chance  of  painting  a  careful  sketch  of  the  Falls,  in 
which  case  I  should  remain  here  a  fortnight,  and  then 
start  for  the  States,     lielieve  me,  dear  Lannum, 

Yours  very  truly, 

J.    S.    LUMLEY. 


Mr.  Lumley's  skill  as  an  artist  was  perhaps  not  ecpial 
to  that  of  Mr.  Crampton  ;  but  many  of  his  sketches  from 
nature  were  really  excpiisite.  While  regretting  that  the 
trio  of  noble  British  gentlemen,  just  mentioned,  have  long 
been  beyond  my  ken,  the  many  very  hapi)y  days  that  I  was 
privileged  to  spend  in  their  society  will  long  be  treasured 
among  my  choicest  memories. 


i  t  ■  It 


hi' 


i 

'.•  'ft' 

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804 


HAPIIAZAIID   rEUSONALITlES. 


SAMITKL  TYLER.    * 

TIaving  bocn  ivfnicHtcd  l>v  tlu'  fitinilv  of  tlio  hito  Sainnol 
Tvlcr,  of  Maryluiul,  to  i)rei)sue  his  Mfo  jukI  h^ttors  for 
l»iiI)lic'!ition,  I  cheerfully  fonsontcd  to  do  so;  iind  all  the 
jivjuhiMe  inuteriids  were  phieed  in  my  lunids.  As  to  when 
that  labor  can  be  aeeoniplished,  it  is  impossible  U)V  me  to 
say,  l)eeause  of  the  pressure  of  my  ordinjiry  duties.  It 
has  occurred  to  me,  however,  that  I  mii»ht,  with  propriety, 
give  the  public  a  foretaste  of  what  they  may  hereafter 
expect,  and  hence  the  subjoined  sketch  of  my  friend's 
antecedents  as  a  philosopher,  a  lawyer,  and  author. 

He  was  born  on  the  22d  of  October,  l«Ol),  in  Prince 
Oeorij-e's  County,  Maryland,  on  the  estate  where  his  father, 
(Jrafton  Tyler,  and  his  ancestors  resided  for  several  gen- 
erations. His  brother,  Dr.  (irafton  Tyler,  two  years  his 
junior,  and  long  a  distinguished  physician  in  (ieorgetown, 
D.  C'.,  and  he  were  the  only  children  of  their  parents; 
and,  until  he  was  twelve  years  of  age  the  twain  attended 
school  near  the  patrimonial  home  ;  after  which  the}'  were 
sent  to  a  school  in  Georgetown,  1).  C.,kept  by  Dr.  James 
Carnahan,  who  was  soon  afterwards  elected  president  of 
Princeton  College.  The  position  vacated  by  Dr.  Carnahan 
was  filled  by  the  Kev.  James  McVean,  of  the  Sttite  of 
New  York.  It  was  to  this  excellent  man  that  Mr.  Tyler 
felt  himself  indebted  for  most  of  the  instruction  he  ever 
received  from  a  teacher,  which  was  of  any  value  ;  and  he 
manifested  his  gratitude  by  joining  his  brother  and  other 
pupils  in  erecting  a  monument  over  the  grave  of  their 
friend  and  teacher.  Mr.  Tyler  thouifht  him  the  best  Latin 
and  (ireek  scholar  he  had  ever  known,  and  said  of  him 


ill''  I 


SAMl  T.I,   TVI.KU. 


305 


thut,  with  fjitluMly  prldo  ami  Iviixliicss,  bo  labDrcd  to  iiiako 
hirt  jjiipils  sclioltirs  like  liiiiisclf.  Diir'mn'  tlic  lust  ciiiht 
months  of  liis  Hcliooliiiu;  in  ( It'orj^t'tovvii,  Mr.  'IVUt  studird 
(irt'L'k  jit  h'jist  fourtri'ii  hotirs  of  cvcrv  (hiv.  Tho  (Irct-k 
iikmU'S  of  thoiiiilit  hcc'HiiU!  Ills  own  ;  and  ho  was  far  inoic 
familiar  with  (Jivi'k  literature  th:in  with  the  Knulisli.  Tlu' 
class  to  wliich  he  and  his  brother  heloiiiied  was  called 
"The  'I'enth  FA'gion."  IJesides  ('om[)osltion  in  Kn^lish, 
Latin,  and  (Ireek,  i)nl»lie  speakini:;,  and  some  mathematics, 
the  classi(!  lanunao'es  were  their  cliii'f  stndv. 

lie  remained  in  this  school  nntil  October,  1.S27,  when 
lie  was  strangely  persnaded  to  go  to  IMiddlebiu'V  College, 
in  \'ermont ;  l)nt  he  remaintid  there  only  one  qnarter, 
bavins';  fonnd  the  scholarship  of  the  classi's  in  tlu^  college 
very  far  below  the  private  school  of  (leorgetown.  At 
Christmas  ho  went  ont  to  Lake  Cham[)lain,  to  anuise  him- 
self by  hnnting,  lio[)ing  that,  after  a  while,  he  might  feel 
like  retnrnin<:  to  the  coUciic  ;  bnt  he  was  out  of  his 
element,  and  soon  returned  to  his  la^mo  in  Marvland. 

Though  conscious  of  his  imi)erfect  education,  he  had 
formed  so  low  an  estimate  of  the  American  colleges,  tliat 
ho  determined  to  l)egin  the  study  of  law.  His  father 
placed  him  in  the  ollice  of  John  Xelson,  then  a  resident 
of  Frederick,  INFarvland.  lie  tlu-re  began  an  extensive 
course  of  study  to  make  ann'nds  for  his  defective  educa- 
tion ;  and  devoted  himself  to  the  study  of  law,  history, 
political  science,  theology,  the  physical  sciences,  and  all 
the  branches  of  medicine.  Ho  was  his  own  guide  in  all 
these  studies,  excepting  tlu'  law. 

His  health  having  been  impaired  ])y  overwork,  he  was 

advised  to  abandon  his  studies  and  devote  himself  to  some 

active    employment ;    but   his    rjply    was    that   ho    would 

die   rather  than  give  up  an  intellectual  life.     With  great 

20 


fr 


306 


HAPHAZARD   PERSONALITIES. 


u 


loss  of  time,  from  nervous  prostration,  he  contiiuied  his 
studies,  aiul  was  admitted  to  the  bar  in  1831. 

Polities  he  eschewed  from  the  be<!,inning.  His  profes- 
sional success  was  as  great  as  it  could  well  ])e,  for  one  who 
mingled  so  little  with  the  crowd.  He  had  nnusual  facility 
for  public  speaking,  his  manners  were  those  of  a  man  of 
the  world,  and  his  appearance  as  far  as  possible  from 
everything  bookisli ;  l)ut  his  reputation  for  literary  tastes 
did  not  do  him  the  full  measure  of  damage,  professionally, 
which  it  has  the  power  to  do  generally. 

In  the  3'ear  1830,  a  oook  on  universal  salvation,  called 
"  Balfour's  Inquiry,"  was  left  at  his  office,  with  a  request 
that  he  would  read  it,  and  record  his  opinion  of  its  argu- 
ments. Whether  the  person  who  left  it  was,  as  indict- 
ments charge,  "  instigated  by  the  devil,"  he  knew  not,  but 
certain  it  wns  that  the  Greek  \mt  into  his  head  by  James 
McVean  baffled  the  devil,  if  indeed  he  h*^d  anything  to  do 
with  the  matter.  Mr.  Tyler  wrote  a  notice  of  tiie  book, 
which  was  published  in  the  "  Princeton  Review"  for  July, 
1836.  Thus  connnenced  his  authorship,  by  fighting  the 
arch  heresy  in  religion. 

He  had  now  become  engaged  in  the  study  of  mental 
philosophy.  Reid's  "Inquiry  on  the  Principles  of  Com- 
mon-Sense "  had  fallen  into  his  hands  while  he  was  a 
student  of  law,  and  gave  him  the  first  glimpse  of  the 
philosophy  of  the  human  mind.  He  had  never  before 
read  a  word  on  the  sul)ject.  The  next  work  which  he 
took  up  was  Cousin's  "Introduction  to  the  History  of 
IMiilosophy,"  which  was  put  into  his  hands  by  a  person 
who  said,  "he  could  make  neither  head  nor  tail  of  it," 
He,  however,  was  more  successful ;  for  he  "  made  tales  of 
it,"  in  a  criticism  contained  in  a  letter  to  h  friend,  which 
was  published  in  a  Baltimore  magazine. 


SAMUEL   TYLER. 


307 


In  July,  1840,  ho  pii1)lisluHl,  in  the  "Princeton  Review" 
an  article  on  the  '"Baconian  Piiilos()[)hy "  ;  and,  in  the 
same  month  and  year,  an  article  on  IJroiiuiliam's  ''  Natural 
Theology,"  in  the  literary  and  religious  magazine,  edited 
by  Rev.  R.  J.  Hreckenridge,  in  Haltimore.  i  lie  doctrines 
of  both  these  articles  had  been  embra'^ed  in  one,  and  sent 
by  him  to  the  New  York  "  Review,"  then  edited  by  Rev. 
C.  S.  lienrv.     I\Ir.  Ilenrv  so  dei)orted  himself  in  regard  to 

ft.  ft.  X  t^ 

the  article,  that  he  addressed  to  him  a  letter,  which  was 
l)ublislied  in  '^  Breckenridge's  Magazine"  for  March,  bSlO. 
The  various  pajxM-s  from  his  pen,  which  followed,  were 
as  follows:  "  Lenhart,  the  Mathematician,"  '•  Princeton 
Review,"  Julv,  1841  ;  ''Ranch's  Psychology,"  "  Brecken- 

'  ft.     '  '  ft,  Cft-     ' 

ridge's  Magazine,"  August  of  the  same  vear ;  "Psychol- 
ogy  ;  or,  Locke  and  Reid,"  "  Princeton  Review"  for  A[)ril 
1843  ;  "Influence  of  the  l^aconiau  l^hilosophy,"  ''Prince- 
ton Review"  for  July;   "Agricultural  Chemistry,"  same 

ft.        '  vT?  ft.     ' 

journal,  October,  1H44  ;  "  Connection  between  Philosophy 
and  Revelation,"  same  journal,  July,  1845  ;  also  ''  Bush  on 
the  Soul,"  July,  1840  ;  and  "  IIuml)oldt's  Cosmos,"  July, 
1852;  and  in  the  "American  (Quarterly  Review,"  al)out 
that  period,  he  publisiied  an  article  on  "  Whately's  Logic." 
In  speaking  of  the  above,  and  otiier  similar  ])r()(hictious, 
he  was  wont  to  call  them  "  withered  leaves  that  strew  the 
Vallombrosa  of  literature." 

In  1844  he  published  the  first  edition  of.  his  "  Dis- 
course on  the  Baconian  Philosophy,"  a  second  edition  two 
vears  afterwards,  and  a  third  edition  more  recently.     Soon 

ft.  « 

after  its  first  appearance,  the  l^nie  Catholic^  a  journal 
published  in  Baltimore,  under  the  auspices  of  Bishop 
AVhittingham,  took  such  notice  of  it  as  to  call  forth  a 
letter  from  Mr.  Tyler  to  the  bishop,  which  was  far  from 
being   obsequious  in  its  character.     The  bishop,   iu  his 


1% 


ii 


it: 


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!■  M       I 


a.;,.  . 


i|i 


808 


IIArilAZAKD  im:iison'alities. 


reply,  disavowed  tdl  respousibilUy  for  the  article,  but 
refused  to  make  the  disavowal  through  the  journal  itself, 
after  which  the  correspondence  between  the  parties  was 
pu])lished  in  the  newspapers.  In  this  state  of  tiie  affair, 
Hugh  Davey  Evans,  of  the  Baltimore  bar,  addressed  Mr. 
Tyler  a  letter,  avowing  himself  tlie  author  of  the  notice. 
In  answer  to  that  letter,  he  pul)lished  another  connnunica- 
tion,  which  induced  Dr.  Breckenridge  to  say  thnt  '■'  he 
thanked  his  stars  that  it  was  not  addressed  to  liini " ; 
while  tlie  "Princeton  Review"  was  induced  to  speak  of 
the  ])isli()p  as  a  kind  of  Rip  Van  Winkle  ;  and  the  "North 
American  Review  "  to  say  that  Mr.  Tyler  had  given  the 
Puseyite  faction  tlie  greatest  castigation  they  had  ever 
received.  Mr.  Tyler's  reputation  was  not  at  all  damaged 
hy  "the  apostolic  blows  and  knocks"  which  he  received; 
but,  on  the  contrary,  the  highest  praise  was  awarded  to 
him  by  the  first  men  of  science  in  Americ^a  for  the  l)ook 
he  had  published.  Even  Sir  William  Hamilton  bore  flat- 
tering testimony  to  its  merits  :  and,  as  evidence  of  Mr. 
Tyler's  capacity  for  philosophy,  did  him  the  honor  to  send 
him  each  editi(m  of  his  "Discussions"  as  they  issued 
from  the  press.  In  all  candor,  however,  it  sh(>uld  be 
stated  that  Mr.  Tyler  did  not  think  the  work  worthy  of 
so  much  commendation.  It  was  written  when  he  was 
very  young,  and  in  his  own  opinion  its  chief  interest  lay 
in  its  being  the  production  of  a  person  untutored  in  i)hi- 
loso})hy,  and,  therefore,  furnishing  only  a  favorable  augury 
of  better  things  in  the  future  from  the  same  mind. 

In  1848,  his  work  entitled  "  liurns  as  a  Poet  and  a 
Man"  was  published  in  this  country;  and,  in  the  follow- 
mg  year,  it  was  republished  in  Dubliii  nnd  also  in  London. 
It  was  written  at  night,  during  the  wnnter  of  1848,  at 
the  suggestion  of  an  excellent  lady,  who  had  asked  Mr. 


SAMUEL  TYLER. 


309 


I'd 

1)0 
W'.XH 

ay 

li- 

irv 


Tyler  wliv  he  did  not  write  somethiiiii;  about  his  favorite 
poet.  Ill  liis  criticism  on  "  Death  and  Doctor  llornhook," 
a  most  hidicrous  mistake  occurred  in  rcijard  to  the  Scotch 
■word  gnlb/,  he  havin<»'  made  it  mean,  not  a  knife,  but  a 
cavity  in  tlie  earth.  The  proof-reader  aHowed  it  to  ])e  so 
printed  ;  and,  strange  to  say,  the  Kur()[)eaii  editions  did 
not  correct  the  blunch'r.  When  he  (Hsc()vered  the  mis- 
take, it  seemed  to  him  such  a  good  joke,  tliat  he  at 
once  divulged  it. 

It  was  perhaps  this  circumstance,  T  have  supposed, 
whicli  so  shari)ened  Mr.  Tyler's  critical  eyesight  as  to 
discover  an  erior  in  a  letter  written  by  Daniel  Web- 
ster. It  was  his  letter  written  to  Lord  Cami)))ell,  a])out 
the  cliief  justices  of  England,  the  original  draft  of  which 
had  been  i)resented  to  me  as  a  keei)sake  ;  and  on  showing  it 
to  j\Ir.  Tyler,  lie  pointed  out  the  mistake  which  had  l)een 
made  in  one  paragraph,  wliere,  by  the  use  of  two  nega- 
tives, jNIr.  We))ster  actually  said  the  very  reverse  of  what 
he  intended. 

In  the  year  1841,  when  the  Chesapeake  and  Ohio  Canal 
Company  was  almost  in  bankruptcy,  and  by  a  sudden  turn 
in  politics,  the  old  ollicers,  who  had  been  in  the  company 
from  the  first,  were  dis[)laced,  and  new  ones  put  in  their 
positions,  it  was  found  impossible  for  these  officers  to 
make  their  annual  report  to  the  Legislature.  This  was 
during  the  time  of  the  construction  of  the  canal,  and  while 
jdl  the  negotiation;-  with  the  liankersof  Europe,  in  the  sale 
of  these  bonds,  were  unknown  to  the  pu])lic,  and  the  great 
question  Avas  to  learn  what  loss  had  been  sustained  by  the 
sale  of  these  bonds.  In  this  state  of  things,  JNIr.  Tyler  was 
called  upon  to  undertake  the  task  of  putting  tlie  ])usiness 
of  the  company  in  order.  Tlie  old  ollicers  thought  none  but 
themselves  could  do  it.     Doubtless  many  persons  thought, 


■f' 


II 


310 


HAPHAZARD   PERSON ALITIES. 


1 1 


HI 


III  ;l 


iii  ': 


that  to  go  to  Ml*.  T^^ler  to  do  such  work  was  like  going  to 
Parnasus,  instead  of  Wall  Street,  for  a  financier.  As  he 
had  a  partner  in  the  practice  of  tlie  law,  he  undertook 
the  task,  and  went  before  the  Legislature  and  explained, 
to  the  saliafadion  of  all,  the  financial  affairs,  from  fii-st 
to  last,  of  the  company ;  and  there  was  no  further 
trouble. 

When  the  conA-^ention  assembled  in  18">0  to  form  a  new 
constitution  for  the  State  of  Maryland,  Mr.  Tyler  ad- 
dressed a  letter  to  tliat  body  on  the  subject  of  law  ref(^rm. 
The  new  constitution,  which  was  already  formed,  re((uired 
two  connnissions  to  be  appointed  :  one,  consisting  of  two 
persons,  to  digest  tha  statutes  of  the  State  ;  and  the  other, 
consisting  of  three  persons,  to  simplify  the  procedure  in 
all  the  courts  of  the  State.  Mr.  Tyler  was  elected  ])y  the 
Legislature  one  of  the  simpliflers.  Their  first  report,  on 
the  general  subject  of  law,  law  reform,  and  pleading,  was 
l)repared  exclusively  by  Mr.  Tyler. 

In  the  mean  time  there  was  no  abatement  in  ]\Ir.  Tyler's 
philosophical,  scientific,  and  literary  studies.  Among  the 
works  that  he  then  projected  was  one  entitled  "The  Blos- 
soms of  Science"  ;  but  it  was  not  published.  ITp  to  that 
period  his  attention  had  been  so  divided  between  law  and 
science,  that  lie  really  displeased  two  classes  of  his  friends. 
Tiie  lawyers  said.  Give  up  science  ;  the  scientists  said,  CJive 
up  law  ;  and  so,  as  he  was  wont  to  s^"^^,  he  pleased  neither 
class  of  friends. 

INIr.  Tyler's  work  entitled  "The  Progress  of  Philosophy 
in  the  Past  and  the  Future"  was  first  published  in  1851), 
and  a  second  edition  in  18GH  ;  in  1872  appeared  "The 
Memoir  of  Roger  IL  Taney "  ;  and,  two  or  three  years 
afterwards,  his  "Theory  of  the  Beautiful."  Among  his 
legal  writings,  all  of  which  are  held  in  high  repute  by  the 


SAMUEL  TYLER. 


311 


profession,  are  "A  Treatise  on  Pleadings  in  the  Court 
of  Cliancerv,"  "A  Comnientarv  on  the  Law  of  Partner- 
ship,"  and  "  Treatise  on  Preliminary  Procedure  and  Plead- 
ings in  the  Maryland  Courts  of  Law  "  ;  and  he  also  edited, 
with  copious  notes,  "  Stephens  on  Pleading."  lUit  the 
crowning  work  of  his  life  was  ''  An  Introduction  to  States- 
manship as  shown  in  the  Progress  of  Euroi)ean  Society, 
in  Relation  to  Government  and  Constitutional  Law,  from 
the  Foundation  of  Rome  by  Romulus,"  not  published. 

Of  all  the  books  published  by  IVofessor  Tyler,  perhaps 
the  most  important,  and  the  one  which  gives  us  the  best 
characteristics  of  his  mind,  is  the  "  Discourse  on  the 
Baconian  Philosophy."  But  we  allude,  especially,  to  the 
revised  edition,  which  is  in  reality  a  new  work.  "It  is  so 
changed  in  form  and  so  much  fuller  in  its  scope,  bringing 
down,  as  it  does,  all  the  important  discoveries  in  the  physi- 
cal sciences  to  the  present  time,  and  their  application  to 
the  arts  ;  and  also  showing  all  the  successive  steps  taken 
by  the  discoverers,  from  the  first  inductive  suggestions, 
through  all  their  experiments  and  reasonings,  to  the  com- 
plete development  of  the  scientific  truths  into  established 
theories."  The  edition  was  prepared  as  an  introduction  to 
the  study  of  the  physical  sciences,  and  as  a  guide  to  dis- 
coveries in  the  true  path  of  induction,  at  the  solicitation 
of  Professor  Henry,  of  the  Smithsonian  Institution,  and 
other  scientists.  The  '•  Discourse  "  "•  takes  a  theistic  view 
of  physical  science  ;  and  without  making  it  a  special  and 
separate  topic  sliows,  incidentally,  by  its  reasonings  in 
the  development  of  strictly  and  purely  scientific  doctrines, 
that  the  theistic  is  the  one  perennial  view  of  the  inductive 
method  from  the  be""innino"  of  true  science."  It  shows  that 
evolution,  when  considered  as  an  all-comprehending  doc- 
trine accounting  for  the  origin  of  things,  as  well  as  sub- 


312 


HAPHAZARD   PERSONALITIES. 


li 


!     I 


sequent  evolution,  is  self-contriidictory  in  thought  {incl 
absurd  in  expression. 

Tiie  distinction  mude  in  the  ''  Discourse"  between  iihil- 
osoplikal  and  rhetorical  analogy,  the  lirst  being  the  l)asis 
of  inductive  inference,  and  the  last  b'ng  only  the  ])asis 
of  illustration,  and  philosophical  analogy  itself  ])eing 
inductive  evidence,  and  not  a  species  of  reasoning  as 
Aristotle  and  even  Sir  William  llaniilt(jn  had  assuintM], 
is  an  important  advance  in  the  doctrine  of  inductive 
method.  It  was  adopted  by  Professor  Henry,  in  his  lec- 
tures on  natural  philosophy  delivered  at  Princeton  College, 
and  is  retained  in  the  syllabus  of  those;  lectures  published 
in  the  Smithsonian  pu])lications.  It  was  this  "•'  Discourse  " 
which  induced  Sir  William  Hamilton  to  write,  in  1?S48,  to 
the  author,  to  give  up  the  practice  of  the  law,  and  devote 
himself  exclusively  to  philosophy.  This  the  author  never 
did,  but  yet  continued  philosophical  investigtitions,  until 
his  path  of  thought  and  that  of  Sir  William  became  so 
much  one,  that,  on  the  death  of  Sir  William,  Lady  Ham- 
ilton presented  the  author  with  a  beautiful  portrait  of  her 
husband,  as  a  token  of  esteem  of  herself  and  her  family. 

The  work  on  European  society  was  not  quite  linished  at 
the  time  of  his  death ;  but  I  am  glad  to  mention  the  fact 
that,  in  his  own  opinion,  expressed  to  a  friend,  it  could  be 
published  in  the  condition  it  then  was,  without  any  great 
detriment ;  and  it  is  understood  that,  in  due  time,  it  will 
appear,  under  the  editorship  of  ]\Ir.  James  C.  Welling, 
the  learned  and  accomplished  president  of  the  Columbian 
University. 

My  personal  acquaintance  with  Mr.  Tyler  commenced 
when  he  became  a  resident  of  Georgetown  ;  and  one  of  the 
last  evening  visits  that  he  mjide  before  his  death  was  at 
mv  house.     He  was  the  most  brilliant  and  edifyin<>'  talker 

V  %/  CD 


^\i 


SAMUEL   TYLER. 


313 


I  ever  heurd  ;  and  I  doul)t  whether  even  tlie  poet  CoU'ridge 
was  more  than  equal  to  liini  in  tliat  particular.  Tiiat  he 
had  one  weakness,  however,  cannot  l)e  denied  ;  but  it  waa 
one  bv  which  his  auditors  were  alwavs  benefited,  viz.,  a 
disposition  to  monopolize  the  conversation.  His  "  sultject 
themes"  wei'e  well-nii>h  unlimited.  The  ijrasp  of  his  mind 
was  such  that  he  could  infuse  into  thinL>s  obsolete  the 
spirit  of  the  liviui^  })resent.  AVhen  led  in  the  direction  of 
the  beautiful,  he  talked  like  a  poet  about  woman  and  art, 
the  charms  of  nature  and  the  experiences  of  the  human 
heart ;  with  the  records  of  history  and  of  jurisprudence  he 
was  as  familiar  as  most  men  are  with  their  daily  avoca- 
tions ;  the  dei)tli  and  extent  of  his  knowledge  on  all  the 
manifold  phases  of  philosoi)hy  was  simply  marvellous  ;  iind 
he  had  the  power  of  discoursin<>;  upon  the  IJible  in  such  a 
maimer  as  to  make  his  hearers  almost  l)elieve  that  lu^  had 
never  studied  any  other  volumes  For  women  who  were 
handsome,  brilliant,  and  good,  he  had  a  kind  of  passion  ; 
and  it  was  to  one  of  these,  JNliss  Esmeralda  lioyle,  that  he 
dedicated  his  "  Theory  of  the  IJeautiful."  His  love  of  truth 
in  literature  was  such  that  it  induced  him  to  trv  and  i)rove 
by  documents  that  the  poem  of  "l>ar1)ara  Frietchie,"  by 
Whittier,  was  founded  upon  a  pure  fiction  instead  of  a  fact. 
If  vulnerable  on  the  score  of  self-conceit,  it  mav  l)e  asserted 
with  entire  truth  that  verv  few  in  anv  age  have  ever  received 
a  larger  number  of  higlily  com])limentarv  letters  from  fa- 
mous men  in  the  various  departments  of  learning.  For 
[)olitical  controversies  he  had  no  taste  ;  and  while  always 
ready  to  exercise  an  impartial  judgment,  his  symi)athies 
were  generally  with  the  doctrines  and  the  statesmen  of  the 
section  of  country  in  which  he  was  born,  l)ut  he  ch«n'ished 
no  feelings  of  unkindness  towards  any  portion  of  our  com- 
mon country,  every  part  of  which  he  felt  should  be  dear  to 


V^' 


314 


IIArilAZARD    rERSONAMTIES. 


m 


|: 

1  ■ 

1 

1 

the  true  patriot.  In  religion  he  was  entirely  orthodox, 
but  made  no  pretensions ;  and,  on  the  fly-leaf  of  a  little 
German  Testament  which  he  always  kept  upon  his  writing 
table,  I  have  found  written  the  subjoined  translation  of  a 
passage  from  the  will  of  M.  Guizot,  to  whieh  was  appended 
his  signature  :  — 

"I  believe  in  God,  and  adore  him,  without  attemi)ting 
to  comprehend  him.  1  see  him  present,  and  acting  not 
onW  in  the  permanent  refjime  of  the  universe,  and  in  the 
minor  life  of  souls,  but  in  the  history  of  human  societies, 
and  especially  in  the  Old  and  New  Testaments,  monuments 
of  the  revelation  and  divine  action  through  the  mediation 
and  sacrifice  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  for  the  salvation  of 
the  lunnan  race.  I  bow  down  before  the  mvsteries  of  the 
Bible  and  Gospel,  and  I  keep  myself  aloof  from  the  dis- 
cussions and  scientific  solutions  by  which  men  have  tried 
to  exphiin  them.  1  have  full  confidence  that  (iod  permits 
me  to  call  myself  a  Christian,  and  I  am  convinced  that  in 
the  light  into  which  I  shall  shortly  enter  we  shall  see  dis- 
tinctly the  purely  human  origin,  and  the  vanity,  of  most 
of  our  disputes  here  below  on  divine  subjects."  Dec.  1, 
1874. 

In  the  opinion  of  one  of  his  friends,  the  ruling  thought 
in  his  mind  was  the  Christian  revelation  considered  as  an 
element  and  factor  in  human  history. 

The  men  of  thought  for  whom  he  felt  a  special  regard, 
he  "grappled  them  to  his  soul  with  hooks  of  steel,"  having 
a  fancy  for  covering  his  study  walls  with  their  portraits  ; 
and  I  remember  that  one  of  his  best  pictures,  occupying 
the  place  of  honor,  was  the  portrait  of  Sir  William  Hamil- 
ton, already  mentioned,  which  had  been  presented  to  him 
by  Lady  Hamilton.  His  exploits  as  an  advocate  before 
the  courts  of  Maryland  are  a  marked  feature  in  the  legal 


SAMUEL   TYI.ER. 


315 


history  of  the  State.  As  hiw  professor  in  the  CoUun])iau 
University,  he  was  always  popular  with  tlie  students,  and 
held  in  the  highest  esteem  by  the  Faculty.  As  an  author, 
his  chief  vehicle  for  coninuinicating  with  the  public,  as 
already  intimated,  was  the  '■'  Princeton  Review"  ;  and  the 
essays  which  lie  published  therein,  l)etween  the  years  l.s,')(; 
and  185o,  would  form  a  most  interesting  and  valunl)le 
volume.  His  remarkal)le  versatility  is  exemplified  by  tlie 
diverse  character  of  his  published  and  unpublished  \n'o- 
ductions.  It  is  true  tliat  they  are  not  numerous  ;  l)ut  they 
are  so  distinguished  for  their  ability  that  his  reputation  as 
an  author  is  even  more  widely  recognized  in  Europe  than 
iu  this  country. 

As  an  evidence  of  his  influence  among  men  of  thought, 
it  may  be  mentioned  that  he  was  mtule  a  doctor  of  laws 
in  IHiJS  by  Columbia  College  of  South  Carolina,  and  by 
Columl)ia  College  of  New  York  in  ISoO,  when  the  presi- 
dent, Cliarles  King,  wrote  that  the  honor  was  conferred 
*'in  token  of  admiration  for  his  cluiracter  and  for  his  legal 
and  literary  attainments."  It  was  in  June,  1<S07,  that  he 
was  unanimously  elected  professor  of  law  in  the  Columbian 
College  of  Washington,  in  which  position  he  continued 
until  his  death,  and  from  which  lie  j\lso  received  the  degree 
of  doctor  of  laws.  Uut  the  very  high  estimation  in  wliich 
he  was  held  by  leading  men  in  Europe  was  something  most 
unusual.  Although  he  had  never  crossed  the  Atlantic,  he 
was,  by  means  of  correspondence,  on  the  most  intimate 
terms  with  the  philosoi)hers  of  Scotland  ;  and  it  wms  ui)on 
his  nomination,  made  by  request,  that  two  of  the  (;hairs  of 
philosophy  in  the  University  of  Edinburgh  were  filled  by 
men  who  have  proved  themselves  eminently  worthy  of  the 
honor  conferred  upon  them. 

The  death  of  Professor  Tyler  took  place  in  Georgetown, 


p 


|W'^ 

1 '    ' 

i ' '''' ' 

ii, ' 

■■iik^.4j 

310 


TTA PIIAZARD    TERSONALITIES. 


1).  C,  on  the  ir)tli  of  Dofcinber,  1877.  lie  loft  si  widow 
and  one  w)n,  his  only  dauy-hter  haviny:  died  Koveral  years 
before.  During  the  protracted  illness  which  [)r()ved  to  be 
his  last,  he  made  seyeral  attempts  to  resume  his  labors  on 
his  unhnisiied  booiv  ;  but  his  l)rother,  Dr.  (irafton  Tyler, 
told  him  to  throw  it  aside  at  onee,  as  he  was  kiUiug  him- 
self, whereupon  he  rei)iied,  "  I  hcd'c  killed  myself,"  and 
never  again  took  \i\)  the  pen  which  he  had  wielded  witii 
most  consunnnate  skill  and  success.  For  many  months 
his  friends  were  ai)prehensive  that  he  was  overworking 
himself  ;  and  the  result  of  this  overwork  was  tliat  he  died 
from  paralysis  of  the  brain. 

lie  was  a  man  of  fine  personal  appearance ;  always 
diiiuilied  and  agreeable  in  his  manners  ;  fond  of  seekinii; 
relaxation  from  his  life  of  intellectual  toil  in  cultivated 
society  ;  and,  as  alrejuly  stated,  his  conversational  i)owers 
were  remarkable.  His  name,  as  one  of  his  friends  has 
said,  belongs  to  tlie  catalogue  with  Tliales,  Socrates,  Aris- 
totle, Descartes,  15acon,  Locke,  AVhewell,  Keid,  Hamilton, 
Cousin,  Kant,  and  Hegel ;  and  when  the  human  mind  com- 
pletes the  cycle,  and  returns,  after  the  changes  of  the 
present  time,  to  the  study  of  i)hilosophy,  it  will  render 
well-deserved  homage  to  the  intellect  of  Samuel  Tyler. 


WINFTELD   SCOTT. 

Among  the  men  of  mark  with  wdioin  it  was  my  good 
fortune  to  be  personally  acquainted,  there  were  none  for 
whom  I  entertained  a  greater  art'ection  than  General  Scott. 
He  had  been  the  friend  of  my  father ;  and  when  I  first 
saw  him  in  1840,  he  treated  me  with  great  kindness. 
The  place  where  I  most  frequently  met  him  was  the  Library 


m 


WTNFIFJJ)    SrOTT. 


817 


of  the  War  Depnrtniont,  of  wliicli  f  was  tlion  the  lil»m- 
rijin.  lie  was  a  fr('(]iK'nt  visitor,  :m(l  we  liad  uumy  })leas- 
ant  talks  about  hooks  jiiid  authors.  His  love  of  litiM'ature 
was  stroufT,  Mud  his  kuowle<l<;e  aud  tastt^  decidedly  uucoui- 
inou,  —  fnr  iu  advMUce  of  pul)lic  uieu  lienerally.  lie  wm.s 
j)artial  to  Freuch  hooks  ;  and  niMiiy  of  tht;  more  vnluahU^ 
})uhlicatious  in  the  W:ir  l)ei);irtnient  Lil)rary  were  pur- 
C'li.ised  at  his  su<»g(>stion  ;  aud  he  li:»d  a  special  fondness 
for  the  greiit  Eni>lisli  reviews.  When  Kendall's  descrip- 
tion of  the  vv:ir  with  Mexico,  with  iar<z;e  i)ictures  of  the 
principal  l)!itth!s,  made  its  appearance,  an  early  copy  was 
obtained  for  the  library  ;  and  one  of  the  first  men  who 
looked  over  it  there  was  Cieueral  Scott.  Ilis  comments 
were  full  of  sharp  criticism,  l)ut  it  w:is  evident  that  the 
scenes  in  which  he  had  borne  a  conspicuous  part  inspired 
considerable  pleasure. 

AV^hen,  in  1851,  General  Scott  began  to  be  talked  about 
as  a  candidate  for  the  Presidency,  a  Philadelphia  publisher 
asked  me  to  prepare  a  campaign  life  of  the  war-worn  hero. 
I  consulted  the  general,  and  accepted  the  commission. 
lie  heli)ed  me  somewhat  in  my  labors  ;  the  little  book 
was  duly  published,  and  hence,  perliaps,  tlie  election  of 
Franklin  Peirce.  "  I  never  loved  a  bird  or  flower,"  etc.,  nor 
did  I  ever  try  to  help  a  political  friend  into  the  Presidency, 
witliout  blasting  his  prospects  forevermore  ;  the  moral  of 
which  is,  that  I  was  never  intended  for  the  arena  of  politics. 
And  it  may  be  mentioned  in  this  connection  that,  after 
Peirce  became  President,  1  had  the  honor  of  dining  at  the 
Wiiite  House,  when  the  two  most  prominent  guests  were 
Winfield  Scott  aud  Jefferson  Davis. 

Another  incident  that  I  remember,  connected  with  Gen- 
eral Scott,  had  reference  to  a  speculation  in  horse-flesh.  He 
mentioned  the  fact  to  me,  one  day,  that  he  had  a  charming 


I- 


318 


TTAIMTAZAUn    PEUSONALITIKS. 


little  nmre,  which  \w  \\tu\  piircluised  for  his  (hiuj^htor,  but 
thsit  the  auiinril  wjus  alt<)«]jetiu»r  too  lively  for  the  Huddle,  uud 
he  wished  to  sell  her.  I  told  him  1  would  pureluiwe  her, 
myself,  if  I  li:id  tiie  money,  jis  I  wanted  just  such  a  crea- 
ture for  mv  amusement,  ''(five  me  vour  note,"  said  he, 
"  for  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  and  it  will  he  all 
ri«»ht."  I  dulv  forwarded  the  valua))U!  consi<lerution  to 
him,  when  he  returned  this  little  missive  to  me  :  — 

Wasiiincjton,  ^Fareh  18,  185.3. 
Dear  Sir,  —  Your  note,  paya])le,  etc.,  is  satisfactory. 
I  told  the  stable-keeper,  this  mornin<^,  to  deliver  the  mare 
to  you,  etc.     She  rejoi(!es  in  (or  at  least,  responds  to)  the 
name  of  "•  Lady  Ella."  Yours  truly, 

Win  FIELD  Scott. 

This  mare  was  one  of  the  most  beautiful  creatures  c* 
the  horse  kind  I  ever  saw,  but  she  had  one  habit  that 
made  her  ladyship  rather  disgusting ;  it  was  that  of  get- 
ting up  a  regular  dance  whenever  she  passed  a  carriage  ; 
whereby  she  invariably  prevented  her  rider  from  making  a 
graceful  bow  to  any  lady  friends  that  he  might  happen  to 
know,  and  compelled  him  to  appear  in  rather  a  ridiculous 
plight.  It  was  not  long,  therefore,  before  I  parted  with 
the  "  T^ady  Ella,"  for  the  sum  of  two  hundred  dollars  ;  and 
she  was  subsequently  sold,  in  lialtimore,  for  seven  liundred 
dollars. 

When  my  "  Dictionary  of  Congress "  was  first  pub- 
lished, among  the  friends  to  whom  I  sent  copies  was 
General  Scott,  who  then  had  his  headquarters  in  New 
York ;  and,  in  return,  he  sent  me  the  following  pleasant 
note :  — 


'iVINFIKM)   SrOTT. 


819 


Nkw  York,  April  21,  isr/.i. 
Mj/ (loar  Sir^  —  I  am  in(li'l)t(Ml  to  your  courteHV  for  a 
copy  of  tlio  "  ConjjjroHsional  Dictionary."  It  Ih  a  cMpital 
idea  to  furnish  hucIi  a  work  for  rt'fi'riMK't',  anil  I  hopi;  that, 
witii  your  known  ability,  it  will  ho  carried  on  and  jx-rfccted 
in  future  cditiouH.     Accept  n»y  thanks,  and  hclicvc  me, 

Yours  respectfully, 

WiNFiKLi)  Scott. 


One  of  the  most  aii;reeable  interviews  Hint  I  had  with 
General  Scott  was  on  the  dock  of  a  Nortli  liiver  steam- 
boat, when  he  was  going  to  make  one  of  his  fr  •(  uent  visits 
to  AVest  Point.  He  seemed  to  know  the  hisUu  v  of  every 
bay,  headland,  ledge,  hill,  and  farm  that  we  sighted  ;  and 
his  talk  abounded  in  anecdotes  connected  with  them,  and 
the  famous  men  of  the  devolution.  But  the  two  or  three 
persons  who  immediately  surrounded  him  were  not  the 
only  ones  who  enjoyed  his  conversation  ;  for  there  was 
constantly  a  larger  group  collected  within  the  sound  of  his 
soft  and  gentle  voice,  who  looked  upon  the  venerable  hero 
with  pride  and  alTection,  and  who  seemed  delighted  with 
his  conversation.  lie  smiled  at  the  curiosity  that  was 
evinced,  but  withstood  tin;  piercing  glances  with  accus- 
tomed fortitude. 

The  last  time  that  I  saw  the  grand  old  general  was  a 
few  days  preceding  his  final  dei)arture  from  Washington, 
on  which  occasion  he  alluded  in  pathetic  terms  to  the 
existing  national  troubles.  And  as  to  the  parting  between 
Scott  and  JMcClellan  at  the  railwav  station,  on  that  famous 
morning,  it  was  to  my  mind  one  of  the  most  poetical 
events  of  the  war.  The  dimly  lighted  hall,  the  silent  hour 
before  daybreak,  the  two  chieftains  with   their  military 


pi 


•l|j| 


^=;»^ 


320 


IIAPIIAZAKD   PERSONALITIES. 


staffs,  —  one  of  them  old  and  rounding  a  life  of  glory  and 
pnysing  into  retir  nient ;  the  other  young,  full  of  the  most 
brilliant  promise,  and  passing  into  a  field  of  military  aetion 
almost  without  a  parallel,  —  all  combined  to  make  an  im- 
pression on  the  public  mind  not  soon  to  be  forgotten. 
The  events  which  General  Scott  witnessed,  during  his 
eventful  career,  were  numerous  and  Avonderful ;  but  n()n(! 
of  them  were  more  remarkable  than  that  he  should  have 
seen  his  successor  hounded  out  of  his  military  power  by 
a  pack  of  unscrupulous  demagogues  ;  and  it  was  a  ])lessing 
to  the  veteran  warrior  that  he  should  have  lived  long 
enough  to  witness  the  triumphant  conclusion  of  the  war 
for  the  preservation  of  the  Union,  and  the  liual  extinction 
of  slavery  on  the  American  continent. 


CHARLES   MACKAY. 

It  was  through  this  well-known  author  and  poet  that  I 
became,  in  l^^oT,  a  correspondent  of  the  IJJustrated  Loh- 
don  Neivs,  in  which  I  published  a  series  of  illustrations 
of  American  scenerv.  J)urini>;  his  first  visit  to  this  conn- 
try  I  saw  much  of  him  and  admired  him  as  a  poet,  a 
lecturer,  and  a  man.  In  AVashii.gton  he  received  marked 
attention  from  our  i)ublic  men,  and  was  more  warmly 
greeted  there  as  a  lecturer  than  anywhere  else,  excepting 
Cincinnati,  where  he  had  an  audience  of  two  thousand  ; 
while  the  city  of  Philadeli  hiji  sent  less  than  twenty  per- 
sons to  hear  him  on  the  subject  of  "  National,  Historical, 
and  Popular  Songs."  In  Washington,  a  card  was  pub- 
lished thanking  him  for  one  of  his  lectures  ;  and  among 
the  forty  persons  who  signed  it  were  John  J.  Crittenden, 


Ml' 


CHAllLKS   MAOKAY. 


821 


lung 


Lord  Napier,  Jefferson  Davis,  W.  11.  Seward,  and  A.  H. 
Stephens. 

Aniono:  the  many  tilings  tliat  he  told  me  al)ont  the  men 
with  wiioni,  as  a  journalist,  he  had  been  intimate,  T  re- 
member these  :  That  Ilerlu'rt  Ingram,  who  founded  the  Lon- 
don JVcR'.s',  in  1842,  and  who  was  subsecpiently  a  meml)er  of 
•Parhameut,  commeneed  his  career  as  a  news-vender  ;  that 
he  knew  Charles  Dickens  when  he  began  to  write  his 
"  Sketches  of  Character,"  for  which  he  received  two  guineas 
each  from  the  Chronicle^  the  paper  with  which  Mr.  Mackay 
had  been  connected  for  about  ten  years ;  that  Sidney 
Smith  was  an  occasional  contributor  to  the  Chronicle^  hav- 
ing himself  brought  his  famous  letter  to  the  Pennsylva- 
nians  to  the  office,  and  who  was  such  a  ])ad  penman  that 
what  he  wrote  ha|l  to  be  guessed  at  by  the  proof-readers. 
Mr.  Mackay  aiso  told  me  that  Thomas  IMoore  and  Thomas 
Cami)bell  were  both  in  the  habit  of  printing  spicy  scpiibs 
in  the  colunms  of  the  Chronicle.  It  was  from  him,  also, 
that  I  first  heard  of  Thackeray's  singular  indifference  to 
the  works  of  nature  ;  and  that  he  did  not  have  the  curiosity 
to  visit  Niagara,  when  in  this  country.  I  had  always  l)een 
amazed  at  my  own  inability  to  wade  through  the  novels 
of  this  famous  author,  but  that  information  settled  the 
whole  question.  lie  could,  of  course,  descri))e  a  fashion- 
able and  heartless  woman  to  perfection  ;  but,  for  myself, 
1  have  no  fancy  for  society  follies  when  gone  to  seed. 

Mr.  IMackay  had  known  Samuel  Kogers  quite  intimatt'ly, 
and  while  lie  praised  him  liighly,  I  became  impressed  with 
the  idea  that  t)ie  banker-poet  was  as  nnich  a  cynic  as 
Thackeray,  and  the  possessor  of  other  qualities  not  calcu- 
lated to  add  to  the  pleasures  of  memory,  on  the  part  of 
those  who  knew  him  ])est.  But  what  Mr.  Mackay  told 
me  about  William  Wordsworth  was  decidedly  anuising  as 
21 


I 


n 

-'""ff 

iiUlii 

it;   ■  ,     \^^ 


IB! 


i 

III 

ill 

1 

322 


IIAniAZAllD   PERSONALITIES. 


well  US  patlietic.  Happening  to  ])e  at  Ambleside  on  one 
occasion,  he  improved  an  offered  opportunity  to  visit  Rydal 
Mount,  and,  although  kindly  welcomed  by  the  great  poet, 
Mr.  Mackay  received  two  compliments  that  were  uni(pie. 
In  the  first  place,  "Woodsworth  told  him  that  he  had  never 
read  one  of  his  poems,  and  never  intended  to  do  so,  giving 
as  a  reaHt>n  that  he  never  read  anv  but  his  own  ;  and,  in 
the  second  place,  he  persisted,  on  several  occasions,  in 
calling  Mr.  jNIackay,  Laman  lilanchai'd  (who  had  recently 
connnitted  suicide),  and  continued  to  do  so  until  they 
parted  ;  proving  that  the  good  and  grand  old  author  of 
the  "  Ode  to  Immortality  "  was  simply  in  his  dotage. 

Another  incident  narrated  to  me  by  ]\fr.  IMackav  was 
even  more  sad  than  tho  one  last  mentioned,  because  it  re- 
flected on  the  bad  taste,  if  nothing  more,  of  an  American 
ollicial,  who  at  the  time  was  superintendent  of  the  (*apitol 
extension  in  Washington,  while  T.  AV.  AValters  was  the 
architect.  That  gentleman  had  presented  to  Mr.  INIackay, 
as  editor  of  the  Illustrated  London  News,  a  compU'te  set  c>f 
photographs  from  the  original  drawings  of  the  new  dome  ; 
and  when  the  superintendent  chanced  to  hear  of  the  cir- 
cumstance, he  sent  a  note  to  IMr.  JNIackay,  asking  that  he 
might  1)0  permitted  to  examine  the  designs,  to  see  if  they" 
were  all  right,  and  for  authentication.  Of  course  the 
request  was  complied  with  ;  and,  when  they  were  returned, 
it  was  found  that  the  name  of  the  architect  on  sacli  pho- 
togrnph  had  been  erased^  and  in  its  place  was  substituted 
that  of  the  superintendent.  Wh<m  this  mutilation  was 
submitted  to  ni}'^  inspection,  and  I  heard  the  comments  of 
the  foreignor  on  the  conduct  of  my  countryman,  I  did 
not  feel  like  making  an  allusion  to  the  "  8tar-8pangled 
Banner  "  or  any  other  patriotic  song. 

During  IMr.  Majkay's  sojourn  in  Washington   he  was 


IJSIT 


CHARLES   MACKAY. 


323 


invited  to  dine  with  President  liuchanan  ;  and,  bv  the 
merest  accident,  the  day  fixed  for  tlie  entertainment  was 
the  anniversary  of  the  surrender  of  the  British  at  New 
( )rleans.  After  the  fact  of  the  dinner  had  been  mentioned 
in  the  papers,  several  particuhirly  zealous,  if  not  intelli- 
<i,'ent  Englishmen,  wrote  to  JNIr.  Mackay,  complaining  that 
he  should  have  submitted  to  such  an  insult  from  tlie  Presi- 
dent of  the  United  States  ;  but  the  poet  had  the  good 
sense  to  ridicule  all  such  suggestions.  lie  saw  quite  as 
nmch  of  Mr.  W.  II.  Seward  as  of  any  noted  American, 
and  the  opinions  attributed  to  the  then  senator  were 
certninlv  entertainiuii* ;  one  of  tliem  was  that  France 
ought  to  be  overtln-own  ;  another,  tliat  Trehmd,  Hungary, 
and  I*oland  should  be  made  free  ;  another,  that  he  de- 
si):nred  of  eyer  seeing  slavery  a))olished  ;  and  lastly,  that 
he  ho[)ed  he  might  live  to  see  the  time  Avhen  there  Avould 
be  a  divided  American  l\ei)ublic,  with  three  confederacies. 
It  was  perhaps  to  prevent  this  calamity  that,  at  a  subse- 
quent period,  Mr.  Seward  fixed  his  mind  on  the  Presi- 
dency, and  thought  that  his  cause  might  be  assisted  if  the 
lUnstnitcd  LoixJoii  JSl'/rs  should  publish  his  portrait,  with  jt 
sketch  of  his  life,  as  was  kindly  done  by  Mr.  jNIackay. 

During  his  stay  in  Washington,  JNIr.  Mackay  was  fre- 
quently entertained  at  dinner  by  persons  who  esteemed 
the  man  and  admired  his  poetry  ;  and  it  was  at  one  of 
these  entertainments  that  he  delivered  the  following  poem, 
which  I  print  from  the  manuscript  presented  to  me  by  the 
author,  and  now  in  my  possession  :  — 

JOHN   AND   JONATHAN. 

Said  Brother  Jonathan  to  John, 

"  You  are  the  elder  born ; 
And  I  can  ])ear  another's  liate, 

But  not  your  slightest  scorn. 


IK 


ImIB  i 


m 


feii 


i':i 


324  HAPHAZARD   PERSONALITIES. 

You  've  lived  a  life  of  noble  strife ; 

You  've  made  a  world  your  own ; 
Why,  when  I  follow  in  your  steps, 

Receive  me  with  a  groan? 

"  I  feel  the  promptings  of  my  youth, 

That  urge  me  evermore 
To  spread  my  fame,  my  race,  my  name, 

From  shore  to  farthest  shore. 
I  feel  the  lightnings  in  my  blood, 

The  thunders  in  my  hand, 
And  I  must  work  my  destiny. 

Whoever  may  withstand. 

"  And  if  you  'd  give  me,  Brother  John, 

The  sympathy  I  crave, 
And  stretch  your  warm,  fraternal  hand 

Across  the  Atlantic  wave, 
I  'd  give  it  such  a  cordial  grasp 

That  earth  should  start  to  see, 
And  ancient  crowns  and  sceptres  shake 

That  fear  both  you  and  me." 

Said  Brother  John  to  Jonathan, 

•'You  do  my  nature  wrong ; 
I  never  hated, "never  scorned, 

But  loved  you  well  and  long. 
If,  children  of  the  self-same  sire. 

We've  quarrelled,  now  and  then, 
'T  was  only  in  our  early  youth. 

And  not  since  we  were  men. 

*'  And  if,  with  cautious,  cooler  blood. 

Result  of  sufferings  keen, 
I  sometimes  think  you  move  too  fast,  — 

Mistake  not  what  I  mean ! 
I've  felt  the  follies  of  my  youth, 

The  errors  of  my  prime. 
And  dreamed  for  you,  — my  father's  son, 

A  future  more  sublime. 


M 


CHARLES   MACKAY. 

"  And  here  's  my  hand,  —  't  is  freely  given,  — 

I  stretch  it  o'er  the  brine, 
And  wisli  you,  from  my  liead  and  lieart, 

A  hij^her  life  than  mine. 
Together  let  us  rule  tlie  world. 

Together  work  and  thrive ; 
For,  if  you  're  only  twenty-one, 

I'm  scarcely  thirty-live. 

♦«  And  I  have  strength  for  nobler  work 

Than  o'er  my  hand  has  done. 
And  realms  to  rule,  and  truths  to  plant, 

Beyond  the  rising  sun. 
Take  you  the  West,  and  I  the  East ! 

We  '11  spread  ourselves  al)road, 
With  trade  and  spade  and  wholesome  laws, 

And  faith  in  man  and  God. 

"  Take  you  the  West,  and  I  the  East; 

AVe  speak  the  self-same  tongue 
That  Milton  wrote,  and  Chatham  spoke, 

And  Burns  and  Shakespeare  sung. 
And  from  our  tongue,  our  hand,  our  heart, 

Shall  countless  blessings  How, 
To  light  two  darkened  hemispheres 

That  know  not  where  they  go. 

"  Our  Anglo-Saxon  name  and  fame, 

Our  Anglo-Saxon  speech. 
Received  their  mission  straight  from  heaven 

To  civilize  and  teach. 
So  here 's  my  hand ;  I  stretch  it  forth ! 

Ye  meaner  lands,  look  on! 
From  this  day  hence,  there's  friendship  Arm 

'Twixt  Jonathan  and  John !  " 

They  shook  their  hands,  this  noble  pair, 

And  o'er  the  electric  chain 
Came  daily  messages  of  peace, 

And  love  betwixt  them  twain. 


325 


IflMip 


, 


32G  HAPHAZARD    PERSONALITIES. 

When  other  nations,  sore  oppressed, 

Lie  dark  in  sorrow's  ni^lit, 
They  looli  to  Jonatlian  and  John, 

And  liopc  for  coming  light. 

Re.'icl  in  tlie  li.i2;lit  of  our  civil  wnr,  and  of  the  subscciutMit 
finjUK'ial  troubles  of  En<il;in(l,  these  lines  are  espeeially 
interesting,  and  not  without  a  moral  for  whom  they  may 
concern.     I  now  submit  the  following  notes  :  — 

AVillard's  Hotel,  AVashington,  Jan.  (5,  IHoS. 
My  dear  Sir^  —  I  rei)ly  to  your  several  questions  :  — 

1.  The  i)ricG  is  as  you  state,  —  one  guinea  i)er  sketch, 
and  the  same  i)er  colunm  of  letter-press. 

2.  You  might  extend,  without  disadvantage,  the  letter- 
press ;  but  no  single  contribution,  including  several  sub- 
jects, should  ever  pass  a  couple  of  cohumis. 

3.  While  1  am  in  the  I'nited  States,  the  [letter  way 
would  be  to  forward  your  sketches,  etc.,  to  me.  If  sent 
direct  to  the  ofKce  in  London,  without  my  i)n2^ri)tiatiir  upon 
them,  they  might  be  delayed  or  neglected. 

4.  After  my  return  to  Euiiland,  address  to  Herliert 
Ingram,  Esq.,  M.  P.,  llliisf rated  Loudon  y^etcs  ofllce,  11)8 
Strand,  London.  Ap[)ly  also  to  the  same  gentleman  for 
payment,  stating  the  arrangement  you  have  made  with 
me  ;  and  all  your  commands  Avill  be  dulv  attended  to. 

Hoping  to  see  you  before  I  leave,  1  remain, 

P^ver  truly  yours, 

Charles  Mackav. 

Bfristet  TTorsK,  Cincinnati,  Jan.  21,  lsr)S. 
Ml/ dear  Mr.  Lanman.,  —  T  am  much  obliged  for  your 
pleasant  introduction  to  Mr.  Charles  Anderson,  which  has 
led   to  my  acquaintance  w'ith   INIr.   and  Mrs.  Longworth, 
and  with  the  whole  of  a  most  interesting  family. 


Il'il'iii:] 


■-   !■ 


CHARLES   MACKAY. 


327 


I  received  the  enclosed  letter  from  iMr.  Blank  this  morn- 
ing.    You  will  do  me  a  favor  (if  it  be  not  asking  you  too 
much)  to  explain  to  him  that  he  has  quite  misunderstood 
the  position  of  matters  ;  that  we  pay  one  guinea  (five  dol- 
lars) a  sketch,  and  that  in  reidity  he  has  given  me  hut  the 
materials  for  one  picture,  or  one  sketch,  whirh  I  have  for- 
warded to  London  with  instructions;  his  little  odds  and 
ends  merely  come   in  as   completions   to  one   design.      1 
should  very  gladly  have  paid  him  for  seven,  if  he  had  pro 
duced  seven  ;  hut  I  should  nmch  rather  have  been  without 
his   services    altogether,     lie    created   a  most   pernicious 
delay  ;  and,  at  the  last  moment,  did  not  produce  the  thing 
needed.     I  wish  you  w(Kild  make  him  understand  this  as 
gently  and  courteously  as  possible,  and  not  to  hurt  his 
feelings  ;  but  business  is  business,  and  I  cannot,  in  a  case 
like  his,  which  has  been  one  of  disappointment  through- 
out, stretch  the  rules  of  the  oOice,  and  pay  him  for  work 

not  done. 

For  one  sketch  and  two  photographs,  I  hold  myself 

responsn)le. 

Excuse  me,  T  pray,  for  troubling  you  in  this  matter  ;  and 

with  kindest  regards,  l)elieve  me, 

Ever  truly  yours, 

Charles  Mack  ay. 


Bfrxf.t  House,  Cincinnati,  Jan>  23, 1858. 

M>/  dear  KSir,  —  l  am  not  able  to  answer  some  iiKpiiries 

'relative  to  the  amount  paid  for  drawings  on  the  wood; 

but  I  think  the  most  practised  and  best  draughtsmen,  such 

as  Gilbert,  Kead,  and  Foster,  receive  at  the  rate  of  twelve 

guineas  per  page.     I  am  not  sure,  however. 

I  was  invited  to  meet  Mr.  Strother,  but,  unfortunately, 


wm 


328 


HAPHAZARD   PERSONALITIES. 


I'  ; 


"if 

I     ;!1 


I  i-i 


had  to  leave  Wasliingt(^n  tluit  very  day,  and  could  not  see 
him.     I  still  hope,  however,  to  have  the  pleasure. 

The  scenes  of  the  Potoniae  (sliooting,  lishing,  etc.) 
would  be  good,  and  suita])le  for  the  paper. 

As  regards  the  proofs  of  the  forthconung  work,  I  kIkjuRI 
like  to  see  them  before  they  are  sent  to  England.  My 
address  will  be  at  tlie  St.  Charles  Hotel,  New  Orleans. 

Do  not  send  any  letter  of  news  to  the  Illustrdted  Lon- 
<Jo)i  Neivs  during  my  stay  in  this  country,  as  I  send  them 
(luite  as  nuich  as  thev  can  conveniently  make  room  for. 
After  my  dei)arture,  I  will  arrange  to  give  you  proper 
scope  for  all  matters  of  importance. 

Ever  yours  truly, 

ClIAllJ.ES  Mackay. 


m  1 


Montreal,  April  2J),  1858. 

3 fy  dear  Sir,  —  My  only  fear  is  that  you  may  be  suj)- 
plying  sketches  a  little  "too  fast,"  especially  while  I  am 
in  the  country,  and  doing  quite  as  much  in  that  line  (or 
more)  than  the  /.  L.  N.  can  make  room  for.  I  projxjse 
returnin<>;  home  by  the  steamer  of  the  12th;  audi  think 
you  had  better  send  me  the  sketches  of  Mr.  Strotlier  (and 
the  letter-press) ,  that  1  may  take  them  with  me.  Address, 
bv  return  mail  to  this  city,  care  of  the  Hon.  John  Youuif. 
Believe  me,  Ever  truly  yours, 

Charles  Mai  k ay. 

P.  S.  In  about  two  months  "  the  const  will  be  clearer" 
for  your  contributions,  inasmuch  as  mine,  by  that  time, 
will  cease  to  block  the  way. 


CLAUK    MILLS. 


32'J 


CLARK    MILLS. 

Clark  Mills  was  Imumj  in  tlio  Statu  of  Now  York, 
Dt'c.  1,  I'SlT).  In  (•ons4;(iui'n('o  of  the  death  of  his  father, 
ha  was  i)laee(.l,  :it  the  early  aiic  of  live  years,  with  an  nneie 
by  inarria<j;e,  Avhoni  he  left  between  tlie  aLif  of  twelve  and 
thirteen  for  inia<;ine(l  ill-treatment.  The  followin<:;  s[)rinij; 
he  worked  on  :i  farm  and  drove  a  wagon,  lie  went  to 
school  that  winter,  working  night  and  morning,  before 
school  honrs,  for  his  board.  The  next  spring  he  went  to 
Syracnse,  N.  Y.,  in  search  of  work,  and  found  eni})loy- 
ment  at  five  dollars  ti  month  with  board,  lie  worked  nine 
months,  and  I'eceived  only  live  dollars  :  his  employer  failed 
in  the  fall,  and  he  lost  all  that  wtis  due  him.  He  worked 
during  the  winter  at  a  ditferent  emi)loyment,  and  in  the 
spring  drove  a  wagon  hauling  lumber  at  Syracuse,  where 
he  remained  one  year  at  eight  dollars  a  month  and  board. 
The  liorses  were  finally  sold,  and  oxen  substituted.  Find- 
ing ail  ox  team  too  slow  for  his  "go-ahead"  disposition, 
he  left  his  employer,  and  worked  on  the  canal  till  the  fall, 
and  went  to  school  that  winter.  In  the  spring  he  tended 
canal  locks.  The  following  Avinter  he  worked  in  a  swamp, 
cutting  cedar  posts,  and  got  his  feet  so  badly  frozen  that 
he  was  iinal)le  to  wear  shoes  for  several  months,  which 
sutfering  determined  him  never  to  Avork  again  as  a  com- 

mon  lal)orer.     lie  then  procured  a  situation  with  a  cabinet- 

* 

maker,  working  first  for  instruction  and  tluMi  for  board. 
He  next  learned  the  millwright's  trade,  and  worki-d  at  that 
alxjut  two  years,  and  left  the  employment  to  take  charge 
of  a  plaster  and  cement  mill. 

His  next  move  was  for  New  Orleans,  La.,  wdiere  he 
staved  about  one  year,  and  then  went  to  Charleston,  S.  C, 


\\  . 


r 


i  { ■'vl 

■  li 

J  ■: 


ii 


*!  '  I'm 


in  ■ 


ll  1 


'^i: 


I 


3:^0 


lIAlMrAZAHI)    PKUSONAMTIES. 


and  Icjirnod  the  stuceo  trade,  wliicli  husinoss  ho  follovvcMl 
until  IH.'i;'),  wIkmi  ho  coininoncod  iiiodciUlnjj:  busts  in  chiy. 
IIo  soon  discovored  a  ni!w  method  for  taking  a  cast  over 
the  livin<ij  face,  whicli  onal)UMl  him  to  tako  busts  so  ('iu'jq)ly 
that  ho  soon  liad  as  nuicli  work  as  lio  couhl  do.  IIo  then 
rosolvod  to  try  outtinji;  in  marltlo  ;  and,  after  procnrinu;  a 
l»h)ek  of  native  Carolina  stone,  he  eonnnenced  the  bust  of 
John  V.  Calhoun.  At  that  time  ho  was  not  familiar  with 
the  rules  for  euttinjy  a  bust,  and  was  ('()mi)elled  to  adopt  a 
rule  of  liis  own,  which  was  a  very  tedious  process,  recpiir- 
iuiij  extraordinary  eare.  He  soon,  liowever,  succeeded  in 
producin*^  what  was  then  considered  the  best  likeness  ever 
taken  of  INIr.  Calhoun.  The  bust  was  ]»urchased  by  the 
city  council  of  C-harleston  ;  and  ho  was  also  awarded  a  uold 
modal,  on  one  side  of  which  was  inscribed  the  following  :  — 

"  Aedes  Mores  Juratiue  Curat.     (Artesque  Fovit) 
Ingenii  preniiuni  virtuti  cnlcar, 

Id.  Apr.  MDCccxLvi." 
On  the  other  side  :  — 

"  To  Clark  INIills  as  a  mark  of  respect  forhiss^eniiis  for  sculpture 
cxhil)ited  in  his  bust  of  the  favorite  son  of  Carolina,  Jolui  C. 
Calhoun,  and  as  an  incentive  to  further  exertions,  tliis  medal  is 
presented  by  the  City  Council  of  Charleston." 

Soon  after  this,  means  wore  offered  him  bv  the  wealthy 
gentlemou  of  Charleston  to  s.tudy  in  Europe.  This  circum- 
stance found  its  way  into  the  newspapers;  and,  in  a  few 
days,  he  received  a  letter  from  the  Hon  John  Preston  (the 
gentleman  who  sent  Hiram  Powers  to  Italy),  which  stated 
that  ho  had  seen  the  notices  about  his  visit  to  Italy,  and 
that  he  would  like  to  have  him  come  to  Columbia,  S.  C, 
and  take  the  busts  of  himself  and  wife  ;  also,  that  Colonel 
Wade  Hampton  desired  the  busts  of  himself  and  daugh- 


■ite 


CLAKK    MILLS. 


331 


lei'H  ;  and  that  lie  might  cut  them  in  niarl)le  when  he  had 
further  advanced  in  the  art. 

He  took  the  advice  of  friends,  and  went  to  Columbia. 
After  takinijj  ten  ])usts,  he  returned  to  Charleston.  A 
little  incident  occurred  at  tiiis  time  which  seeini'd  to  chanuje 
his  wliole  course.  AVhen  he  called  to  t:»ke  leave  of  Wil- 
liam C.  Preston,  wliose  acquaintanci'  he  had  formed,  lie 
remarketl  to  the  arti.st  that  he  should  see  the  statuary  at 
Washiniiton  before  visitin<i^  Europe.  He  re[)lied  that  '•  if 
lie  should  s[)end  his  means  in  travellinj^  about,  he  would 
not  be  able  to  accomi)lish  his  object."  —  '•  As  for  expense,'' 
said  INIr.  Preston,  *"  if  you  will  ljjo  to  WnshinLiton,  and 
take  the  busts  of  mv  friends  Webster  and  Crittendi'U,  I 
will  pay  your  exi)enses  there  and  back,  and  ptiy  you  for 
the  busts  also."  He  readily  accepted  the  offer,  starti'd  for 
AVashiuiiton,  stopping;  in  Richmond,  \-a.,  to  see  the  statue 
by  Houdon,  which  was  the  llrst  statue  he  had  ever  seen. 
The  lirst  thin^'  he  did  after  his  arrival  in  W;ishini;ton  was 
to  visit  the  Capitol,  that  he  mii>ht  feast  his  etiiicr  eves  on 
the  statuary  there.  He  saw  nuich  to  admii-e.  and  much 
which,  even  to  his  unpractised  eye,  ap[)eared  im[)erfect. 
The  drapery  on  the  "  Statue  of  Peace"  seemed  to  sur[)ass 
human  skill;  and  tlu;  '"JMuse  of  History,"  recordin*!;  the 
events  of  time,  he  thought  was  the  u'randest  and  most  sub- 
lime idea  ever  conceived.  Of  the  statue  of  Wasjiiiin;t(m, 
by  Greenoui!:h,  he  thouuht  the  anatomy  i)erfect,  thouuii  he 
could  not  associate  AVashin<iton  with  the  statue.  The 
crowd  of  visitors,  so  far  as  he  could  learn,  invariably  con- 
denmed  it  for  want  <^f  historical  truih.  He  ctime  to  the 
conclusion,  while  standing'  there,  that,  should  he  ever  have 
an  order  for  a  statue,  the  world  should  lind  fault  for  his 
giving  too  much  truth,  and  not  for  want  of  it. 

An  accidental  circumstance  here  gave  rise  to  the  order 


I' 


I 

11 

I 

I 

. 
i! 

'!    'l 

i  i! 

r    : 

k 

*    ^ 

8.'V2 


llArilAZAKD   VKRSONAUTTKS. 


for  the  JjiclvHoii  Htutue.  llo  vv:is  iiitiodiurd  to  tlio  lion. 
Cave  Jol.iisoii,  then  postiiuuster-gencnil,  iiiul  president  of 
the  Jtickson  IMonuinent  ConimitttH',  who,  on  h'!irnin<jj  his 
intention  to  visit  Kur()[>e,  proposed  that  he  should  give  ii 
(h'sign  for  :i  bronze  e(]Ues  *!  statue  of  (ieneral  Jjicivson. 
Never  havinif  seen  Genera  .lekson  or  mu  ecpiestrian  statue, 
he  felt  himself  incompetent  to  execute  a  work  of  such 
m:i_i2,Mitude,  and  i)ositively  refused.  The  incident,  liowever, 
made  an  impression  upon  his  mind  ;  and  he  reflected  sufli- 
cientlv  to  produce  a  design  which  was  the  very  one  suhse- 
(luently  executed,  and  which  now  adorns  the  i)ul»lie  scjuare 
in  front  of  the  AViiite  House.  Hu  eoneluded  to  accept  JMr. 
Johnson's  offer;  and,  after  nine  months  of  patient  Inhor, 
he  succeeded  in  l>ringing  out  a  minijiture  model,  on  a  new 
principle,  which  was,  to  )>ring  the  hind  legs  of  the  horse 
exactly  under  the  centre  '  lis  body,  which  of  course  pro- 
(hiced  a  perfect  b;d:ince  reby  giving  the   horse   more 

the  appearance  of  life  ;  the  model  was  adopted  l)y  the 
connnittee.  A  contract  was  ma(h'  for  the  sum  of  twelve 
thousand  dollars,  the  bronze  to  be  furnished  by  the  com- 
mittee. Two  years'  labor  and  hard  study,  and  lie  finished 
the  plaster  model.  After  waiting  nearly  nine  months. 
Congress  appropriated  the  old  cannon  captured  by  ( Jeneral 
Andrew  Jackson  ;  and,  under  various  disheartening  circum- 
stances, the  breaking  of  cranes,  the  bursting  of  furnaces, 
after  six  failures  in  the  body  of  the  horse,  he  tinally  tri- 
umphcd,  and  on  the  ^Sth  of  January,  DS;"),'},  the  statue  was 
dedicated.  Soon  after,  Congress  voted  him  twenty  thou- 
sand dollars  to  rennnicrate  him  for  his  services.  The  sum 
of  fifty  thousand  d(^llars  was  afterward  voted  for  an  eques- 
trian statue  of  General  George  Washington  ;  and  that  also 
occupies  a  central  position  in  the  metropolis.  In  the  fol- 
lowing spring,  the  city  of  New  Orleans  voted  thirty-five 


CLAHK   MILLS. 


833 


thoiisjiiul  dollars  foi*  a  (luplicate  of  the  JackHoii  statuo. 
A  farm  was  piiichascd  on  tlm  lialtiiiiore  and  Wasliinj^ton 
'rnnipiko,  about  llirco  iiiiU  m  from  Wasiiinoton,  for  tia; 
imipost!  of  crcctiiii;"  the  lu'ccssary  Itiiildiii^s,  studio,  and 
foiindrv. 

llaviiiij;  t'omplt't(Ml  tho  Imildiiios,  ]\c  was  about  to  com- 
mence work  when  n  «jjale  destroyed  the  studio.  Before  it 
was  rebuilt,  the  fouiidiv  was  destroyed  by  lire  ;  but  it  was 
rebuilt  as  soon  as  possil)le.  Afli'r  linishini^  tlu^  statue  for 
New  Orleans,  he  connnenced  the  statue  of  Wasjiin^ton, 
which  was  com[>lete(l  and  dedicated  on  the  22d  of  Kel)ru- 
ary,  1 «()().  The  livin«>;  horse  iifter  which  this  statue  was 
modelled  Avas  captured  on  a  i)rairie  near  Fort  Leavenworth, 
and  was  considered  a  remarkably  line  animal.  lie  was 
subse([uently  purchased  of  the  artist  by  his  friend  James 
li.  llannnond,  of  South  Carolina,  as  an  ac([uisition  to  his 
extensive  stud.  In  June,  1<S(;0,  ]Mr  INIills  commenced  the 
worl  of  easting  the  statue  of  freedom,  after  Crawford's 
design,  which  was  completed  in  18G3,  and  now  stands 
a])ove  the  dome  of  the  Capitol. 

Such,  in  brief,  is  the  story  of  another  self-made  man, 
and  one  of  the  most  fortunate  of  American  artists.  Tiiat 
he  possessed  gi-nius  of  a  hiih  order  cannot  be  doubted  ; 
and  if  his  works  do  not  dis[)lay  all  the  conventional  graces 
of  European  art,  he  has  certainly  produced  two  statues 
which  are  original,  and  in  keeping  with  the  manly  vigor 
of  the  great  Republic.  And  this  I  take  pleasure  in  say- 
ing, if  for  no  other  reason  than  this,  that  a  number  of 
ni)start  critics  havt;  attempted  to  disparage  his  })roductions. 
In  l.SIW;,  Mr.  jNIills  invented  a  second  method  for  taking 
busts  in  a  manner  peculiarly  his  own  ;  and  while  he  was 
assisted  by  one  son,  who  inherited  his  father's  genius,  ho 
received  at  the  same  time  the  gratifying  news  from  Munich 


I 


IIArilAZAUl)    PKIISONALITIES. 


that  nnotlicr  son,  who  hud  ])oen  studying  there  the  art  of 
the  sculptor,  litul  been  honored  with  the  first  prize  of  the 
Academy,  and  was  tlie  first  American  wlio  had  ever  re- 
ceived a  prize  from  that  institution.  And  I  chronicle 
the  fact  with  pleasure,  that  those  two  sons  were  a  great 
comfort  to  their  father  in  his  later  years. 

ISFr.  INIills  died  in  Wushingt<»n,  on  the  12th  of  January, 
l-SS:i,  nfter  a  protracted  illness,  and  ^vas  buried  with  all 
the  honors  due  to  his  reputation  as  a  most  honorable  and 
worthy  man,  and  a  self-taught  artist  of  uucomniou  abilities. 


Mr 


j 

■  ii 

i  ^  ■  '.\ 

iiH 

tHMB 

i   I      ''n^ln 

1  ['HI 

1       ^SsJE 

1    i 

k 

■■";■  ' 

It 

1  [ 

tJJEJBJ^i 

m\' 

In 

.M 

CHARLES   P.    McILVAINE. 

TiTE  death  of  this  eminent  man,  IMarch  12,  187P),  re- 
minded me  of  the  fact  that  I  became  ac(piainted  with  him 
more  than  forty  years  before.  It  was  before  he  was  con- 
secrated a  bishop,  and  whilst  he  was  visiting  the  country 
which  was  to  become  his  see.  He  happened  to  be  in  the 
vilhige  of  jNIonroe,  on  the  river  Raisin,  in  JMichigan,  on 
the  occasion  of  a  school  exhibition,  and  when  the  i)resent 
writer  "spoke  his  first  piece."  It  was  a  little  poem  en- 
titled "The  Orphan  Boy,"  by  IMrs.  ()[)ie  ;  and  because  it 
was  a  pathetic;  piece,  and  the  s[)eaker  cried  from  fear, 
durinii"  its  deliverv,  the  effect  was  striking ;  the  audience 
thought  the  boy  n  good  actor,  and  the  embi'yo  bishop 
])atted  hiui  on  the  head,  and  spoke  a  kindly  word,  which 
the  latter  has  never  forgotten.  To  say  that  lie  has  been 
a  IMcIlvaine  man  from  that  time,  wiMild  be  superfiuous  ; 
and  what  is  a  little  singular,  the  residence  of  the  writer 
is  to-day  within  a  two-minutes'  walk  of  the  church  in 
Georgetown,  D.  C,  where  the  bishop  commenced  his 
miuistrv- 


CHARLES   P.    McILVAINE. 


335 


That  Bishop  Mcllvaiue  was  a  noble  Christian  gentle- 
man, an  iin[)ressive  orator,  a  successful  author,  a  most 
useful  and  intineutial  prelate,  and  rendered  the  world  very 
great  service  hy  his  writings  on  the  Christian  religion,  are 
facts  that  cainiot  l>e  doul)ted,  and  he  nuist  ]»e  remembered 
as  one  of  the  most  eminent  of  Americans. 

AVlien  engnged  in  c>)mi)iling  my  '•  Dictionary  of  Con- 
gress," it  became  my  duty  to  call  ui)on  Bishop  iMcIlvaine, 
for  some  information  in  regard  to  his  father,  who  had  been 
a  senator  in  Congress  ;  and  two  letters  which  he  sent  me, 
at  the  time,  have  a  historical  value,  and  I  submit  them  to 
the  public  for  their  edification.  In  one  of  them  he  gives 
us  a  ver}'  decided  opinion  of  what  ho  thought  of  the  Amer- 
ican Congress  in  l.S(')();  und  it  was  perhaps  a  blessing  to 
him  that  he  died  in  Florence,  before  he  could  be  fully  in- 
formed as  to  the  disgrace  which  fell  upon  the  Forty- 
Becond  Congress,  when  a  lar<re  number  of  its  members 
placed  themselves  n[)on  the  roll  of  disloyalty.  The  let- 
ters alluded  to  are  as  follows  :  — 


!| 


m\ 


liter 

h  in 

i   his 


Cincinnati,  Jan.  27, 1800. 

Dea7'  Sir,  —  I  do  indeed  owe  ycm  an  apology  for  not 
having  sooner  answered  vour  kind  letter  of  Nov.  24. 
Partly  ill  health,  recpiiring  abstinence  from  work,  has  been 
the  cause,  but  princi[)ally  that  I  hoped  to  find  some  papers 
which  Mould  have  aided  me  in  the  particulars  necessary  to 
enable  me  to  answer  the  object  as  to  my  father.  I  have 
failed  to  find  them,  ])ut  hope  to  do  without  them  by  reason 
Oi  information  expected  from  my  elder  brother  'in  New 
York. 

I  am  much  obliged  for  the  interesting  remembrance  of 
the  school  exhibition  in  Monroe,  and  the  kind  manner  in 
which  vou  mention  me  in  that  connection,  and  in  subse- 


336 


nAPilAZAJlD    rERSONALITIES. 


quent  relations.     I  remember  Mr.  Dodge  very  well,  and 
beg  my  kind  reinembrance  to  his  ciaugliter. 

If  you  write  a  liistory  or  dictionary  of  the  present  ses- 
sion of  Congress,  yon  will  have  a  ehni)ter  indeed.  What 
a  distj-raee  to  civilization  !  What  a  sifjn  to  ffovernmeiits 
elsewhere,  concerning  self-government  by  the  people.  We 
want  a  Cromwell  to  turn  out  the  House  of  Representatives, 
if  we  could  find  the  Cromwell  that  could  substitute  a 
better.     Only  God  can  save  us  from  our  politicians. 

Yours  very  truly, 

Charles  P.  McIlvaink. 


i  ,' 
It- 


Cincinnati,  Peb.  15, 18(50. 

My  dear  Sir,  —  I  set  down  for  you  the  following  par- 
ticulars concerning  my  father,  out  of  which  you  can  select 
what  vou  mav  find  most  in  accordance  with  the  plan  of 
your  work  :  — 

Joseph  Mcllvaine,  Esq.,  was  born  in  Bristol,  Bucks 
County,  Penn.,  in  the  year  ITdS.  Colonel  Joseph  j\rc- 
Ilvaine,  the  descendant  of  Scotch  ancestors  from  Ayrshire, 
Scotland,  was  a  zealous  Whig  during  the  Kevolution,  against 
whom  the  fiercest  enmity  of  the  Tories  in  that  part  of 
Pennsylvania  w:is  exhibited.  Under  their  instigation,  the 
British  offered  a  reward  to  anv  that  Avould  take  him,  dead 
or  alive.  Joseph,  his  son,  married  Maria  Reed,  daughter 
of  Bower  Reed,  Esq.,  secretary  of  state  in  New  Jersey, 
who  was  brother  to  Joseph  Reed,  president  of  the  Com- 
monwealth of  Penns^'lvania,  under  the  old  C<^nfederation, 
and  previously  General  Washington's  secretary,  akle-de- 
camj^,  and  adjutant-general. 

1781.  Mr.  McIlVidne  was  admitted  to  the  bar  in  New 
Jersey. 


CHARLES   P.    McILVAINE. 


337 


1798.  In  the  French  war  he  raised  a  company  of  vol- 
unteers in  Burlington,  N.  J.  (where,  from  an  early  pre- 
vious period  rill  lils  death,  he  resided),  of  which  he  was 
the  captain.  The  company  was  attached  to  McPherson's 
regiment  of  Blues,  and  nominally  under  commtnid  of 
AYasliington.  At  the  same  time  he  was  aid  to  General 
Bloomfield,  under  whose  immediate  command  were  the 
State  troops  of  New  Jersey. 

1800.  He  was  elected  clerk  of  Burlington  County, 
N.  J.,  which  office  he  continued  to  hold  hy  successive  re- 
elections,  until  he  was  elected  to  the  Senate  of  the  United 
States  ;  a  period  of  twenty-four  years. 

1801.  He  was  appointed  ])y  Mr.  Jefferson  attorney  of 
the  United  States  for  the  District  of  New  Jersey,  whicli,  by 
appointments  under  successive  Presidents,  —  the  last  by 
Mr.  Monroe,  —  he  continued  to  hold  for  a  period  of  twenty 
years.  The  office  was  occupied  on  his  election  to  the 
Senate. 

1804.  He  was  appointed  aid  to  the  governor  of  New 
Jersey  (General  Bloomfield,  his  uncle  by  marriage  with 
his  father's  sister) ,  with  the  rank  of  colonel. 

1818.  He  was  appointed  judge  of  the  Supreme  Court 
of  New  Jersey,  by  Governor  Williamson,  ])ut  declined  the 
office. 

1823,  1824.  In  the  winter  of  these  years  he  was 
elected  to  the  Senate  of  t)\c  Ignited  States  from  New 
Jersey.  During  his  term  of  office  lie  died  at  his  residence 
in  Burlington,  N.  J.,  on  the  10th  of  August,  1826,  in  his 
fifty-eighth  year. 

Mr.  IVIcIlvaine  was  eminent  as  a  lawyer,  and  one  of 

those  who,  in  the  l)est  days  of  Bichard  Stockton  nnd  tlie 

late   Governors  Williamson  and  I'ennington,  occui)i(^d  a 

chief  place  at  the  bar  of  New  Jersey.     He  was  a  gentle- 

22 


i 


338 


nArilAZAKD   PERSONALITIES. 


man  of  polished  mamiers,  most  benevolent  spirit,  and  un- 
blemished morals,  "vvhose  high  honor  and  scrupulous  integ- 
rity in  every  transaction  of  life  drew  upon  him  the 
universal  confidence  and  the  affectionate  respect  of  all 
with  whom  he  was  associated  in  office,  in  business,  or  in 
social  life.  Very  truly  yours, 

Charles  P.  McIlvaine. 


1 

h 

i 
1 

1 

i| 

Bishop  McIlvaine  was  consecrated  in  October,  1832, 
and  therefore,  at  the  time  of  his  death,  had  held  his  high 
olfice  more  than  forty  years.  As  an  author,  his  reputation 
will  probal)ly  be  quite  equal  to  any  of  his  predecressors  in 
the  church  ;  but  it  has  been  said  of  him  that  he  had  no 
equal  in  his  power  for  illustrating  the  truths  of  Scripture 
by  its  own  records. 

The  strength  nnd  sim[)li(*ity  of  his  character  were  in 
keeping  with  the  purity  of  his  life  and  his  abilities  ;  and 
"when  we  remem])er  the  variety  and  inq)()rtance  of  his 
experiences,  there  is  something  very  charming  lu  a  ref- 
erence that  he  once  made  to  his  favorite  hynni  as  fol- 
lows :  — 

"I  have  chosen  a  sweet  hymn,  —  'Just  as  I  am,*  — 
and  have  adopted  it  for  nil  time  to  come,  as  long  as  I 
shall  be  here,  as  my  hymn.  It  contains  my  religion,  my 
theology,  my  hope." 

At  the  time  Mr.  IMcIlvainc  was  located  in  Georgetown 
(as  I  have  learned  from  one  of  the  oldest  residents) ,  it 
was  not  customarv  for  the  white  citizens  to  teach  the  slave 
poi)uhition  ;  but  among  those  who  thought  proper  to  per- 
form that  task  in  Georgetown  was  a  very  worthy  young 
Quaker,  named  George  Shoemaker.  The  Sunday  school 
over  which  he  ])resid<Hl  was  evidently  connected  with 
Christ  Church,  and  for  that  reason  the  pastor  tliereof  one 


MARTIN    F.    TUPPER. 


339 


1832, 


day  said  to  Mr.  Shoeinaker  that  he  must  renit'inher  the 
souls  of  the  colored  pL'ople  were,  iu  oue  sense,  in  his 
keeping  ;  that  he  was  responsible  for  their  ultimate  hti[)pi- 
ness.  This,  of  course,  was  only  intended  ;is  a  friendly 
warning,  but  the  worthy  (^''.aker  took  offence  at  the  re- 
mark, and  forthwith  gaye  up  the  position  of  religious 
instructor.  The  sul)sequeut  career  of  the  bishop  proyed 
conclusiyely  that  lie  was  not  only  a  liberal  man  in  his 
religious  opinions,  but  a  good  fiiend  of  the  slayes.  As  to 
Mr.  Shoemaker,  he  died  in  Georgetown,  at  an  adyanced 
age,  and  is  remembered  as  one  of  the  most  worthy  and 
beneyolent  men  who  were  eyer  identified  with  the  place. 


MARTIN   F.  TUPPER. 

My  acquaintance  with  this  noted  author  was  only  such 
as  may  be  enjoyed  througli  a  friendly  correspondence,  and 
that  on  my  part  w:is  most  i>ratifvini»'.  I  was  introduced 
to  him  Ity  N.  P.  Willis,  and  he  did  me  various  fayors 
which  deserved  and  received  my  gratitude.  One  of  tliem 
had  reference  to  the  re])ublication,  in  Enu'land,  by  Kicli- 
ard  lientlev,  of  my  "Tour  to  the  River  Saguenay."  It 
came  out  with  an  error  in  its  title,  which  had  been 
changed,  and  witli  a  portrait  of  the  author  that  was  not 
satisfactory  ;  and  in  one  of  his  letters,  Mr.  Tupper  nuule 
an  nllusion  to  those  particulars,  ;ui<l  also  gave  me  a  bit  of 
his  "Philosophy"  on  the  subject  of  criticism,  which  is 
especudly  interesting,  in  view  of  the  fact  that  he  has  been 
more  savagely  and  ])ersistently  criticised  than  anv  other 
respectable  author,  during  the  last  quarter  of  a  century, 
resulting  in  a  })opularity  almost  wnecjualled  in  the  annals 
of  literature.     The  letter  was  as  follows  :  — 


'  i^'w 


ffliii 


T^ 


i?' 


ii  i' 


340 


HAPHAZARD    PERSONALITIES. 


Albury,  Guildford,  Feb.  21, 1848. 

My  dear  Sir,  —  Alboit  I  am  not  now  quite  so  near  a 
neighbor  to  ]Mr.  Bentlcy  as  1  was  some  two  years  ngo,  — 
the  (lilferenee  l)eing  as  thirty  mik's  to  next  door,  —  I  never- 
theless have  managed  to  see  him  on  the  subjects  of  vour 
note,  and  (I  trust)  have  done  you  service.  First,  then, 
witli  respect  to  the  delicate  message  upon  money  matters, 
I  was  glad  to  hear  fiou)  INIr.  Bentlev  that  he  had  already 
verv  recently  written  to  you,  rendering  an  account,  which 
will,  it  is  to  be  presumed,  be  satisfactory  in  all  points  ;  at 
any  rate,  I  had  no  business  to  inquire  further,  on  so  very 
personal  a  matter. 

JSecoiidb/.  The  Nova  Scotia  title-page  is  condemnc^d 
throughout  all  the  impression,  and  a  new  one  will  be  im- 
medintely  su])stituted  for  it. 

Thirdly.  With  regard  to  criticism.  Dr.  Johnson  truly 
observed  that  "  literary  fame  is  a  shuttlecock  that  must  be 
hit  on  both  sides  to  be  kept  flying"  ;  with  us,  as  prol)al»ly 
with  you,  nothing  d — ns  a  book  but  its  own  demerits,  or 
other  folks'  neiilect.  A  well-abused  autluH"  has  scarcely 
fewer  fi'iends  than  a  well-praised  one  ;  and  we  liritishers 
always  stand  by  persecuted  innocence,  especially  in  the 
case  of  unprotected  absentees.  I  would  not  then  (as  you 
ask  my  advice)  move  at  all  in  the  matter,  ])ut  leave  any 
past  critical  rancor  (supi)osing  you  have  siny  to  comphiin 
of)  to  the  public  forgetfulness,  or  its  mindful  equity  ;  it 
never,  with  us,  does  an  author  good  —  l)ut  the  contrary  — 
to  seem  to  care  about  what  y°  critics  say  about  him.  We 
go  (udmly  on  in  Mohican  serenity,  unheeding,  or  appear- 
ing not  to  heed,  both  praise  and  blame  ;  and  this  is  a 
worldly  wisdom. 

Never  mind  the  portrait ;  it  is  well  enough  and  hand- 
some enough.  I  see  no  harm  in  it,  and  moreover  it  can- 
not be  lielped  now. 


i 


MARTIN    F.    TUPPER. 


341 


I  have  got  your  ])ook,  and  will  read  it ;  and  if  1  like  it 
(as  it  would  be  impolite  to  doubt)  I  will  send  a  favorable 
notice  to  one  or  other  of  our  j(Ku-nals,  and  you  shall  h;ive 
a  copy,  if  and  when  my  verdict  is  inserted.  As,  however, 
I  am  in  no  wav  connected  with  the  ])ress,  and  onlv  an 
occasional  volunteer  of  such  friendly  matters,  I  cannot 
command  either  nuich  s[)ace  or  frequent  insertion  ;  but 
I '11  do  the  best  I  can  for  vou,  and  one  word  of  honest 
praise  will  tell  better  than  p:iges  of  depreciated  hostility. 
Thankinu;  vou  for  vour  kind  expressions  and  with  kind 
regards  to  AVillis,  who  also  gets  a  letter  by  this  packet, 

I  am  very  truly  yours  (unseen) , 

Martin  F.  Tupper. 

Nearly  every  review,  magazine,  and  critical  journal,  pub- 
lished in  his  time,  had  its  say  about  this  famous  writer, 
but  his  friends  have  certainly  outnumbered  his  enemies, 
and  have  carried  the  day.  The  motive  which  prom[)ted 
his  "Proverbial  Philosophy"  was  creditable  and  Christian- 
like  ;  it  was  not  equal  to  Shakespeare,  nor  did  it  aspire  to 
such  a  position  ;  it  carried  pure  and  comforting  thoughts 
into  thousands  of  domestic  circles,  without  leaving  b(!hind 
it  the  poisonous  slime  which  emanates  from  the  popular 
or  fashionable  press  ;  ;ind  I  have  thought  that  I  w(jidd 
much  prefer  to  be  shut  up  from  the  world  with  that 
curious  book  than  with  a  thousand  and  one  of  the  novels 
and  scientific  dissertations  which  flood  the  bookstalls 
and  libraries  of  the  present  day.  In  181^8  the  London 
Athencnum  spoke  of  "  Proverbial  Philosophy  "  as  a  failure, 
and  destined  to  have  merely  a  family  circulation,  and  it 
continued  its  spiteful  warfare  until  18G7,  when  it  made 
itself  ridiculous  by  drawing  a  comparison  between  Tupper 


■^p^f 


342 


IIArilAZAUl)    IMCUSONALITIES. 


I: 


and  Kin<r  Solomon.  Tn  1H48  the  London  TAtorary  Gazette 
sjiid  of  'rupi)cr  that  lie  was  an  oi'i^iiial  thinker  :iiid  a 
<r(>nninc!  poet;  and  in  LS.')')  spoke  of  liis  popuhirity  as  a 
healthy  Hvniptoni  of  the  i)revailin<j;-  taste  in  literature,  and 
of  his  style  as  irresistibly  pU-asinii'  hy  its  eai'nestness  and 
ehxiuenco.  Heartless  men  of  the  world  and  literary  snobs 
haye  always  been  against  this  writer,  but  hi'  Mecpiiivd  a 
fortune  by  his  pen,  and  liyes  in  a  (piiet  and  luxurious 
style,  which  has  lon<»;  be(!n  the  enyy  of  his  detractors. 

With  regard  to  ]\Ir.  ''rupi)er's  yisit  to  this  country  during 
the  centennial  year,  and  the  publication  of  his  "  Drama  of 
"Washington,"  I  can  say  nothing,  for  at  this  present  "writ- 
ing I  have  seen  neither  the  man  nor  the  poem. 


ii 


m 


ALEXANDER  HAMILTON  STEPHENS. 

Lrwas  in  the  month  of  January,  IHbS,  that  I  llrst  visited 
Washington,  and  the  first  man  th:»t  1  heard  deliver  a 
speech  in  the  Honse  of  Hepresentativi's  avms  Alexander  H. 
Stephens.  His  attenuated  form,  shrill  and  peculiar  voice, 
and  wonderful  earnestness  riveted  my  attention,  and  as  he 
proceeded  in  his  remarks,  I  snid  to  a  friend  seati'(l  near 
me  that  I  did  not  ])elieye  the  speakcn-  Avould  live  to  linisli 
his  speech.  Thirty-five  vetirs  luid  passed  away  since 
then,  and  Mr.  Stephens  was  not  only  living,  but  after  a 
strange,  eventful  history,  became,  in  1<S83,  the  governor 
of  the  State  of  Georgia. 

^ly  introduction  to  this  noted  man  came  throu<>h  Gales 
&  Seaton,  who  were  anxious  that  1  should  consult  Vv'ith 
him  prior  ta  my  going  to  the  Southern  States  as  their  cor- 
respondent in  ISbS.  Among  the  many  letters  that  I  pub- 
lifihed  ill  the  Intelligencer  were  two,  about  Tallulah  and 


Ii 


ALEXANDER    IIAMILTOX    STKI'IIENS. 


343 


Dalilonftija,  which  coiitaiiu'd  sonic  t()U'r:il)lv  hirm;  sturiesi 
jihout  the  peoi)le  of  that  portion  of  Cieorgia  V>\  way  of 
testing  my  integrity  as  a  writer,  INIr.  Gales  called  upon 
]Mr.  Stephens  and  questioned  him  ms  to  tiie  correctness  of 
inv  nssertions  in  one  of  niv  letters,  and  the  rei)lv,  as  after- 

ft,  ft,  '  1     ft     ' 

ward  reported  to  me  by  Mr.  Ciales  as  well  as  Mr.  Stephens, 
was  as  follows:  "  That  letter  is  true  from  beginning  to 
end,  and  I  am  surprised  that  anv  stranger  could  have 
written  such  faithful  descriptions."  It  was  that  criticism 
and  the  letters  in  (piestion,  I  have  nlways  thought,  which 
won  for  me,  more  than  anything  else,  the  long-continued 
friendship  of  Gales  &  Seaton  and  of  ]Mr.  Ste[)hens. 

During  the  ten  years  preceding  the  great  Rebellion,  I 
saw  nuich  of  Mr.  Stephens,  and  not  only  enjoyed  his 
friendship,  but  greatly  })i'o(ited  by  his  wisdom  as  a  scholar 
and  statesman,  and  his  influence  as  a  man.  Such  a  clear 
intellect,  such  a  kind  and  loving  heart,  such  gentle  num- 
uers  and  unselfishness,  and  such  rare  integrity,  I  have 
seldom  if  ever  seen  combined  in  anv  human  IxMUir.  AVith 
regard  to  his  course  wlum  the  war  commenced,  I  can  only 
say  that  I  regretted  it,  as  well  as  the  inevitable  necessities 
of  his  position  ;  and  yet  while  the  war  was  progressing  I 
looked  upon  liim  as  a  l»etter  patriot  than  thousands  of 
those  who  shouted  for  the  Union,  remained  at  home,  and 
filled  their  coffers  to  i'ei)letion.  Among  those  who  assisted 
me  while  engaged  in  compiling  my  "  Dictionary  of  Con- 
gress," Mr.  Stephens  was  conspicuous,  and  he  manifested 
his  interest  in  my  success  by  making  a  proposition  in  the 
House  of  Kepresentatives  that  I  should  l)e  patronized  by 
the  government,  while  a  siinilar  effort  was  made  in  the 
Senate  by  AVilliam  II.  Seward. 

The  return  of  Mr.  Stephens  to  the  United  States  Con- 
gress in  December,  1873,  was  an  event  which  impressed 


*  I 

I  I 

I 

i  I ' 

i    ■ 


Ir  I 


IH; 


l: 


—  t 

1; 

■4 
111 

ii 

.  1 

\\  i 

344 


lIArilAZAKD   PERSONALITIES. 


the  whole  comiminity,  niid  caused  as  ^reat  an  oxciteTuent 
as  did  the  return  to  the  same  position  of  John  C^uincy 
Adams  after  he  liad  served  as  President ;  and  it  may  he 
new  to  many  persons  to  learn  tliat  one  of  the  most  graceful 
poems  whicli  tlie  ex-President  ever  jx-nned  was  in  honor 
of  his  friend,  Mr.  Stephens,  as  follows  :  — 

TO   A.    II.    STEPHENS,    ESQ.,    OF   GEORGIA. 

Say,  ])y  what  syiupatlictic  clitirm, 

What  mystic  inajjjiR't's  secret  sway, 
Drawn  by  sonu!  unresisted  arm, 

Wc  come  from  rejiions  far  away? 

From  North  and  SouMi,  from  East  and  West, 

Hero  in  the  People's  Hall  we  meet 
To  execute  their  hiijh  behest 

lu  counci  and  communion  sweet. 

We  meet  as  stran,ii:ers  in  this  hall; 

lUit  when  our  task  of  duty 's  doiu^, 
We  blend  the  connnou  ijooil  of  all 

And  melt  the  multitude  in  one. 

As  strangers  in  this  hall  we  met; 

But  now  with  one  united  heart, 
Whate'er  of  life  awaits  us  yet, 

In  cordial  friendship  let  us  part.         ' 


John  Quinvii  Adams,  of  Quinc]!,  Mass. 


H.  R.  U.  8.,  14th  June,  1844. 


I  was  among  tlie  first  to  call  and  pay  my  respects  to 
hini,  at  his  hotel,  and  he  welcomed  me  as  if  I  had  been  a 
long-lost  friend.  He  talked  about  the  past  in  rather  a 
pensive  mood,  and  althougli  he  was  too  feeble  in  body 
even  to  rise  from  liis  chair  without  help,  he  alluded  to  his 
bad  health,  but  did  not  utter  a  word  of  complaint.  During 
the   interview,  a   colored   man  was   announced,  when  he 


'cts  to 

tluT  a 
l)odv 
to  his 

)uring 


ALEXANDKU  HAMILTON    STKPIIKNS. 


ol5 


asked  to  bo  excused  for  a  moment  wliile  lie  attended  to  a 
little  matter  of  business,  -which  was,  to  give  the  iiiau  a 
letter  whereby  he  might  obtain  a  position  as  messengi'r  in 
one  of  the  departments.  A  few  weelcs  afterwards,  when 
it  was  announced  that  Mr.  Stephens  would  deliver  a 
speech  in  tln^  House  of  I?epresentatives.  the  gnlleries  were 
more  densely  packed  thtin  they  hud  been  during  the  whole 
winter,  and  the  words  of  the  great  Southern  statesman 
had  the  same  clarion  ring  which  distinguished  them  in  the 
old  times.  His  subject  theme  was  interesting,  but  what 
chielly  impressed  those  of  his  audience  who  were  familiar 
with  his  history  were  the  leatUng  facts  of  that  history, 
viz.,  how  he  was  the  son  of  a  farmer,  and  was  left  an 
orjjhan  at  the  age  of  fourteen  ;  how  he  earned  tiie  money 
by  hard  work  which  enabled  him  to  ol)tain  a  th"''<(igh  edu- 
cation ;  how  he  had  suffered  from  ])tid  health  all  his  life, 
and  had  seldom  weighed  more  than  one  hundred  1)()U1k1s  ; 
how  he  had  ac(piitted  himself  as  a  lawyer  and  a  scholar, 
as  a  State  legislator  and  a  member  of  Congress  ;  how  he 
had  escaped  death  from  the  assaults  of  brut.-il  opponents 
in  politics  as  well  as  from  railway  accidents  ;  how  lu; 
became  vice-president  of  the  ephemeral  Confederacy,  and 
was  h)dged  as  a  prisoner  of  war  in  a  Northern  fortress  ; 
how  he  was  elected  by  his  restored  State  to  the  United 
States  Senate  and  refused  admittance  ;  and  how  he  was 
re-(dected  to  the  National  House  of  Representatives, 
serving  in  all  the  Congresses  down  to  the  year  1.S82. 

After  the  adjournment  of  the  Forty-third  Ccjngress,  Mr. 
Stephens's  lu^alth  was  so  ])()orth:>t  his  friends  despaired  of 
his  reachmg  Georgia,  alive,  but,  as  on  numberless  occasions 
before,  his  indomitable  will  carried  him  through  to  his 
home  in  safety.  All  along  his  route  of  travc^l  his  presence 
was  hailed  witli  shouts  of  gladness  and  respect  by  a  loving 


W 


7T 


^ 

H  ,    ■■ 

ll.l 

f 

i 

i 

. 

■ 

^^BtaL  ^  ^ 

yic. 


HAIMIAZAUI)    riCKSONALITIKS. 


I'[' 


I  i 


people.  Not  loii^  nfler  his  arrival  at  Crawfordsvillc,  and 
iiH  soon  as  his  strenj^lli  would  ])ennit,  lu;  ^ave  a  <i;rand  re- 
ception, not  to  j)oliticiaus  and  starehed-ui)  fashionable 
women,  but  to  more  than  a  thousand  Sunday-school  chil- 
dren. IIc!  received  them  standin^^  on  tlu^  ])()rch  of  his 
pleasa^io  residence,  and  while  supported  on  his  crutches, 
and,  after  lie  had  jriven  them  a  feast,  he  favored  them  with 
an  address,  and  when  they  parted  lie  shook  hands  affec- 
tionately with  every  one  of  the  children.  The  speech  that 
he  delivered  stands  alone  in  its  reli^dous  character  amon^ 
all  those  that  were  ever  uttt'i'ed  l)y  JMr.  Steplu'us,  and 
sonui  of  the  sentiments  are  of  such  very  o;reat  interest  that 
I  am  constrained  to  submit  the  following  extracts  :  — 

"Teachers  and  pupils,  patrons  and  friends  of  all  the 
Sunday  schools  here  asseuibled,  and  to  all  others  present, 
—  adults  ;ind  children,  the  aijiMl  and  the  3'oun<2;,  fathei-s 
and  mothers,  sons  and  daughters,  who  compose  this  large 
audiem-e, — T  ap})ear  not  only  to  giye  you  a  cordial  greet- 
ing, but  my  earnest  and  profound  congratulations  ni)on 
the  manifestations  of  zeal  you  have  this  dav  exhibited  in 
the  jrreat  cause  which  has  bi-oui^ht  you  toi2:ether.  You 
from  a  distance  have  already  received  a  welcome  from  tlu; 
Sunday  school  in  this  place,  and  more  than  a  twice  or  a 
thrice  welcome  1  give  you  to  these  grounds  and  to  these 
shades  for  the  celebrate  -       f  progress  of    the  great 

work  in  which  yon  .'ir  Would  that  my  extreme 

feebleness  did  it        'rly  imi)ossiblo  for  me  to 

address  you  on  iiis  oc'  .-.ion  as  my  impulses  prompt!  1 
have  seen  and  addre.'^  ci]  many  large  audiences  in  days 
gone  by,  assembled  in  tnis  village  to  he:  ■  discussions  upon 
political  questions,  and  matters  that  <  icerned  their  im- 
mediate temporal  interests  ;  but  this  lie  largest  collec- 
tion of  people  I  ever  saw  congregated       thisyicinity  ;  and 


ALEXANDKIl    IIAMII/I'ON    «<Ti:i'IIKNS. 


;m7 


it  is  not  the  less  ^r:itil'viii<;'  to  iiic  tli;it  tlu'  proscnt  oltjoct 
rolates,  not  so  iinu-h  to  Hociilnr  jiiid  woildlv  lutittiTs  ns  to 
thoso  which  arc  Hi)iritiisil  niid  ctt'iiiMl.  Tlic  one  is  iis  siiiidl 
hi  importjiiK'o,  whvn  compiircd  with  the  otlier,  :is  tiiiu;  is 
with  t'teniitv. 

''  It  is  true,  the  position  I  now  oecupy,  nnd  the  si)here  I 
now  iill,  is  new  to  me.  Never  l)el'ore  htive  1  ncUh'esscd 
lui  iiudience,  hirge  or  snudl,  upon  topics  rchitiui^  exchi- 
sivelv,  not  to  thiuijs  of  this  life,  but  to  thut  hiijlier  Ufe 
whicli  is  to  come  ul'ter.  Jf  I  have  not  thus  before  si)<)ken 
])ubUclyupou  such  subjects,  it  has  notl)een  because  J  iiave 
not  thou<;ht  most  intensely  and  ])rofoundly  upon  tiieni 
from  my  earUest  youth.  It  is  a  soiu'ce  of  hiy,!!  <>ratilica- 
tion  to  me  to  say  to  you  all  u[)on  this  occasion,  and  espe- 
cially to  these  little  boys,  that  the  llrst  awakeniuij;  of  such 
thouiihts  in  my  mind,  as  well  as  my  lirst  taste  for  o-eniM-al 
readiuiJ!;,  was  first  (juickened  and  brouuht  into  active  exer 
cist'  in  a  Sunday  school.  It  was  at  the  old  Power  Creek 
Log  Meeting-House,  not  live;  miles  from  this  place,  more 
tlian  a  half-centuiT  ago,  J  became  a  }»upil  in  what  was 
known  as  a'Tnion  Sunday  school.'  The  day  I  enteied 
it  was  a  great  e[)<)ch  in  my  life.  It  was  in  the  latter  part 
of  the  sunnner  the  school  was  o})cncd,  or  when  1  entered 
it,  and  though  but  a  small  boy  at  the  time,  still  I  had  to 
do  such  woi'k  on  the  farm  as  I  was  able  to  do  during  the 
week.  This  was  i)icking  cotton  or  peas,  or  going  to  mill, 
or  other  lii>ht  work  of  like  chai-acti'r.  It  was  only  at 
night,  and  ))ya  pine-knot  light,  that  I  had  any  opi)ortunity 
to  study  the  lessons  assigni'd  nie  ;  and  yet  so  deeply  did  I 
become  interested  in  the  cpiestions  of  the  Union  Catechism, 
that  two  o'clock  often  found  me  poring  over  the  chapters 
of  the  Bible  set  apart  for  the  next  Sunday's  examination. 
To  the  impressions  thus  made  1  am  indebted  in  no  small 


% 


"*-'■  ! 


il 


iii' 


4 
111 


,;i 


f 

I 

1 

..        i             1 

■■.J, 

348 


HAPHAZARD   I'KKSONALITIKS, 


degree  for  my  whole  future  course  iu  lif«s  whetlier  it  has 
been  for  good  or  for  evil.  If,  iu  IIm^  midst  of  uuy  evii 
that  has  marred  that  course,  there  is  auythiug  good  to  be 
found,  or  anything  worthy  of  imitation,  then  it  is  due  to 
that  Sunday  school,  and  to  that  great  cause  which  you  to- 
day celebrate  with  inspiring  mottoes,  l)anners<  and  music." 

He  then  discoursed  upon  modern  rationalism,  saying  :  — 

"  Never  before,  perhaps,  as  T  have  said,  were  the  great 
truths  of  the  IJible,  from  Genesis  to  Revelations,  more 
pow'crfully  assailed  than  at  present.  Those  who  leatl  the 
assault  are  tlie  Rationalists  refei-i-ed  to.  They  are  also 
known  as  Materialists  in  ])]iih)S()[)hy.  They  are  indeed 
philosophers  of  a  high  order,  and  many  of  tliem  have 
done  a  vast  deal  towards  the  advancement  of  physical 
science  in  this  day  and  generation;  but  upon  the  sul>ject 
of  religion,  or  man's  relation  to  the  Deity,  they  have  done 
and  are  loing  inlinite  miscnief.  These  writers,  among 
wlnnn  iua}'  be  named  Compte,  Huxley,  Spencer,  Davwin, 
and  many  others  of  the  same  school,  you  may  be  assured 
are  making  a  deep  impression  on  the  thinkers  of  the  age. 
Their  disciples  are  numerous,  including  men,  and  women, 
too,  of  minds  of  the  highest  order.  This  fact  is  n(»t  to  l)e 
ignored.  The  assaults  of  this  scliool  are  to  be  met,  and 
their  sophisms  answered  and  confuted  by  tlie  Sunday 
scliool,  by  ui)holding  and  sustaining,  as  it  is  your  mis.sion 
to  do,  the  plain  and  simple  and  (spiritual  truths  of  the 
Bible." 

Having  exposed  with  great  ability  the  sophistries  of 
these  wi'iters,  he  concluded  liis  address  by  saying  :  — 

"  These  are  some  of  tlie  i)lain  and  simple  truths, 
teachers,  which,  1  have  thought  it  proper  to  say,  you 
should  impress  u))on  the  minds  of  your  pupils.  By  these 
doctrines  and  principles   they  will   not  only  be   shielded 


ALEXANDER   HAMILTON   STEPHENS. 


349 


t  Inis 
V  evil 
to  be 

luc  to 
oil  to- 

USIC. 

;  great 
,  more 
ul  the 
'e  also 
indeed 
I    have 
liysieal 
mibjeet 
e  done 
among 
ti'win, 
ssnred 
|ie  jige. 
omen, 
t  to  be 
.'t,  and 
nnday 
Mission 
of  the 

3S   of 

[truths, 
,  vou 
'  these 

i\i  elded 


aji^ainst  tlie  errors  stated,  but  their  innate  moral  sense  will 
be  cultivated,  tlieir  si)ivitual  attributes  of  worsliip  and 
devotion  Avill  1)e  developed  throuii'li  the  mysterious  agency 
of    prayer ; 


an 


d   tl 


leir  rem' ne rati  .)n 


that 


new 
birth  —  tlu'ouiih   faith,   so  essertial  to  salvation 


spiritual 
will    ])e 

consummated  :  and  bv  whicli  their  fallen  Iniinan  natures 
will  be  elevjited  and  sublimated  to  a  proper  fitness  for  tliat 
]\igher  life,  in  wliicli  tliey  will  be  in  perfect  and  eternal 
connnunion  with  their  Creator. 

"  To  vou,  little  children,  I  sav,  '  let  no  one  deceive 
you  '  ;  let  no  tem})ting  doctrines  of  any  philoso})her,  liow- 
ever  learned,  beguile  you  into  the  belief  that  you  have  not 
in  you  something  that  places  you  high  in  the  scale  of  exist- 
ence above  the  bare  brute,  —  the  horse  or  the  dog.  Ever 
keep  it  in  vour  memories  that  vou  have  not  onlv  a  bodv 
with  its  various  members,  and  an  intellect  to  control  these 
members,  l)ut  that  you  liave  within  you  a  soul,  a  spiritual 
])art,  which  gives  you  immortality.  Kccollect  that,  accord- 
ing to  the  Divine  teaching,  the  body  is  the  temple  of  God ; 
and  should,  therefore,  not  be  neulected,  or  undulv  cared 
for,  but  that  it,  as  well  as  the  intellect  and  the  soul,  should 
be  duly  cultivated  and  develoi)ed,  so  as  to  (It  tlu'Ui  in  the 
resurrection  for  that  life  hereafter,  where  there  will  ])e  no 
more  pain  nor  suffering,  l)ut  an  eternity  of  perfect  hap- 
piness. 

"  With  these  few  precepts  T  must  close,  I  can  stand  no 
longer.  To  the  teaciiers  I  will  add,  that  it  will  he  a  source 
of  o;ratification  to  me  if  thev  will  l>rinii:  the  children  of 
their  respective  schools,  each  in  its  tui-n  througii  the  hall, 
wlu'u  I  am  seated,  so  that  I  can  give  each  of  them  a 
shaking  of  the  hand  and  a  ])arting  farewell.  To  dl  the 
rest  I  now  give  a  farewell." 

Should  the  foregoing  not  be  suflicient  to  cstal)lish  the 


pi 


i^' 


tl 


i:  \ 


r 

t 

m^ 

r 

5' 

■t 

N' 

350 


IIAIMIAZARD    PEUSOXALTTTES. 


religious  clmracter  of  Mr.  Stcpliciis,  tlie  following  very 
explicit  deebimtiou  inade  in  1<S71)  will  be  sufficient:  "I 
am  a  member  of  the  Presbyterian  cliurch,  and  have  been 
since  my  boyish  dnvs.  They  have  never  turned  me  out, 
and  J  have  tried  to  live  so  thnt  they  could  never  have  oc- 
casion to  do  so.  T  am  trusting  in  the  ntouement  of  Cin-ist 
for  its  cleansing  efficacy.  All  is  clear  through  the  blood 
of  the  covenant." 

On  the  occasion  of  one  of  my  visits  to  IMr.  Stephens's 
rooms  at  the  old  Natioiud  Hotel,  I  obtained  the  following  : 
After  the  adjournment  of  Congress  in  bS")*),  he  foresaw 
with  regret  the  coming  troubles  ;  and,  having  <leclined  a 
renomination  for  Congress,  he  left  Washington  for  Craw- 
fordsville  with  a  lu'avy  lieart.  As  he  was  going  down  the 
Potomac  in  a  steamboat,  to  take  the  cars  at  Acpiia  Civek, 
some  ()/  his  compnnions  noticed  tliat  he  seemed  to  cast  a 
lingering  look  jit  the  Federal  Capitol.  "  Yoii  nre  looking 
at  tliat,"  said  one  of  them,  "  thinking  of  the  time  when 
you  will  return  to  it  as  a  senator."  "  Not  nt  all."  replied 
INIr.  Stephens,  'I  am  taking  my  farewell  view,  knowing 
tlmt  I  shall  not  see  it  again  until  I  am  brought  to  the  North, 
a  ])ris()ner  of  state."  And  tliis  i)rophecy  was  literally  ful- 
filU'd  when  he  was  sent  to  Fort  Warren,  where  he  was  con- 
fined for  a  i)eriod  of  five  months. 

P>y  way  of  illustrating  the  unwcnried  industry  of  IMr. 
Stephens,  it  may  be  stated  that,  in  addition  to  his  arduous 
labors  as  a  congressman,  and  while  constantly  suffering 
from  ill  health,  he  wrote  a  history  of  the  Kebellion  and  one 
or  two  school-books,  and  contributed  to  Johnson's  Cyclo- 
pa'dia  a  large  numl)er  of  biographicnl  and  other  articles. 
Indeed,  he  was  so  importimt  a  contributor  as  in  reality  to 
become  one  of  its  editors,  and  the  compensation  he  received 
for  Ills  services  he  gave  away  in  chaiity.     Prior  to  the 


ALEXANDKIl   HAMILTON   STEPHENS. 


351 


nioetmg  of  the  second  session  of  the  Fortv-fonrth  C^ongress 
Ins  health  was  so  poor  that  he  could  not,  for  u  tin.e,t'ven 
leave  his  bed;   but  his  indomitable  pluck  still  prevailed, 
nnd    with   great   dilliculty  he    made    another   journey    to 
Washington,  and,  in  the  early  part  of  1S77,  had  one  of 
the  most  severe   attacks  of   illness   that  he   ever  experi- 
enced, and  was  able  only  on  a  few  occasions  to  occupy  his 
seat  in  the  House  of  Representatives.     For  many  weeks  he 
was  so  feeble  that  he  could  hardly  turn  in  his  bed  without 
the  help  of  his  nurse  ;  yet  he  received  all  his  visitors  with 
a  smile  or  kindly  word,  —  talking  with  statesmen  about  the 
sad  condition  of  the  country,  with  men  of  letters  about 
new  books,  and  with  clergymen  a])out  the  mvsteries  of  life 
and  death,  and,  like  a  true  Christian,  expressing  his  entire 
confidence  in  the  promises  of  the  Bible,  and  his  willingness 
to  die  when  the  fnial  hour  should  arrive. 

But  from  this  nttack  of  illness,  as  on  many  occasions 
before,  wns  it  his  fortune  to  rallv  ;  and  T  saw  him  at  his 
liotel  in  April,  1877,  wl.en  he  was  sitting  In  his  chair,  an<l 
really  looked  about  as  well  as  when  I  had  first  seen  him 
in  1848.  During  that  visit,  moreover,  he  was  more  talka- 
tive than  usual,  and  some  of  his  conversation  was  really 
luteresting.  On  being  questioned  as  to  the  effect  of  so 
much  sickness  upon  his  nerves  and  feelings,  he  replied  as 
follows  ;  — 

'^  My  long-continued  illness  has  been  to  me  the  greatest 
hlessing  of  my  life,  for  the  reason  that  it  has  given  me  a 
sense  of  entire  resignation  to  the  Divine  will.  Indeed  I  have 
never  had  a  well  day  in  my  whole  life,  and  in  my  youth 
did  not  suppose  T  could  ever  attain  the  age  of  forty  years. 
For  six  months  after  the  attack  which  came  upon  \ne  in 
18G9,  I  could  not  leave  my  bed  ;  and  for  nearly  three  and 
a  half  years  afterwards  I  never  left  my  rooni ;  and  yet, 


3  !■; 


I'' 


IK 


352 


TTAPtTAZAmi    PERSOXALTTTES. 


!  F' 


(luring  all  that  time,  I  never  had  one  single  desire  to  go 
ul)road,  not  even  down  into  the  village  near  by,  nor  did  I 
wish  for  any  intercourse  with  the  world  Friends  came 
to  see  me,  and  I  was  glad  to  welcome  them  ;  l)ut  my  mind 
was  taken  up  with  mv  '  Ilistorv  of  the  War '  and  mv 
school-book,  and  1  was  perfectly  contented.  Nor  do  I 
remember  that  I  ever  felt  restless  or  unc^iy  for  a  single 
moment ;  and  while  I  know  that  I  did  not  cherish  a  sin<»le 
thought  against  anv  human  l)ein<»;,  I  believe  that  I  did  not 
speak  an  unkind  or  i)ettish  word  to  any  of  my  servants." 

In  speaking  of  his  servants,  he  said  that  in  1S50  a 
young  girl  who  had  l)een  born  on  his  plantation  came  to 
him  and  said  that  she  wanted  to  marrv  a  man  residinii;  on 
another  estate.  He  gave  her  his  consent,  in(piired  into 
the  character  of  the  man,  purchased  him  of  his  master, 
and  from  that  time  until  the  moment  he  was  speaking,  that 
man  and  his  wife  had  been  the  sole  managers  of  all  his 
home  affairs,  keeping  his  house  and  looking  after  the  cul- 
tivation of  his  crops.  The  only  special  privilege  that  this 
faithful  man-servant  has  ever  asked  of  his  employer  w;is 
that  he  might  be  permitted  to  accompany  Mr.  Stephens  to 
Washington,  and  to  come  after  him  when  readv  to  return 
home  ;   and  this  [)rivilege  was  invaritd)ly  granted. 

During  the  long  period  (>f  illness  here  mentioned,  IMr. 
Stephens's  n^ost  constant  companion  was  a  dog  which  he 
bad  raised  from  a  puppy,  and  which  liad  recently  died. 
For  nearly  four  years  that  animal  was  never  absent  from 
the  side  of  his  master's  bed  for  a  single  night,  and,  ])ecause 
of  one  peculiar  trait,  was  known  throughout  the  region  of 
Crawfordsville  as  the  "crying  dog."  Mr.  Stephens  told 
me  that,  by  calling  this  dog  to  his  side,  and  speaking  of 
himself  in  a  despOiuling  tone,  the  poor  creature  would 
actually  shed  tears  ;  and,  when  the  complaint  was  contiu- 


r:  I 


ALEXANDER   HAMILTON  STEPHENS. 


853 


ued,  would  soon  begin  to  utter  a  mournful  howl.  The 
infection  and  intelligence  of  the  animal  he  considered  very 
remarkable. 

In  the  course  of  his  conversation  on  pu])lic  affairs,  Mr. 
Stephens  made  two  remarks  which  filled  me  with  surprise  • 
lirst,  that  in  18G0  the  State  of  Georgia  was  the  wealthiest 
State  in  the  Union  ;  and,  secondly,  that,  at  the  time  he 
was  speaking,  the  country  between  Wasliington  City  and 
the  Rio  Grande  was  one  vast  region  of  dcsohition,  iustead 
of  l)eing  what  the  Almighty  intended  it  to  l>e,  the  bright- 
est garden  on  the  surface  of  the  globe.  Of  nuinv  pul.lic 
nien  whom  he  had  opposed  in  politics,  he  spoke  in  the 
kindest  terms  ;  and,  in  commenting  upon  events  that  tran- 
spired a  (piarter  of  a  century  before,  he  displayed  a  strength 
of  memory  which  filled  me  with  amazement.  "^ 

In  November,  1877,  I  saw  Mr.  Stephens  a  number  of 
times  ;  and,  as  usual,  I  timed  my  visits  so  as  to  avoid,  as 
fnr  as  possil)le,  the  stream  of  visitors  which  seemed  always 
to  be  setting  towards  his  hotel.    During  one  of  those  inter- 
views, he  talked  much  about  the  great  authors  and  statesmen 
of  the  past,  and  hardly  a  word  on  politics.     He  spoke  of 
Washington  as  one  of  the  wisest  of  men,  and  went  over  the 
story  of  how  the  Farewell  Address  was  written  with  the 
help  of  Hamilton  and  ]\[adison.     He  spoke  of  his  then 
recent  visit  to  New  York,   l)y   invitation   of   .Air.   A.   .T. 
Johnson,  as  one  of  the  brightest  incidents  of  his  life,  and 
contrasted  it  with  his  passing  through  the  city  a  prisoner 
of  war.     He  had  gone  there  for  a  little  quiet,  but  his  visit 
turned  out  to  be  a  contiiiuous  ovation,  for  which  he  was 
exceedingly  grateful,  as  he  was  latterly  enjoying  tlie  lieart- 
world  more  than  ever.     A  visit  that  Mr.  Haves  liad  re- 
cently inade  he  highly  appreciated,  and  spoke  of  him  in 
vei'y  ivind  and  complimentary  terms. 
23 


[' 


P. 


it. 


ir  r: 


i'  '  In 


iijij 


354 


ITAPIIAZAin)    rEHSONAl.ITIKS. 


1  1 

1 

f 

'I' 

\ 

5-  •- 

L 

k 

In  liis  iippearanoe  Jind  lujinnors  INIr.  St('i)lions  was  often 
compared  with  .loliu  RaiKl()li)h,  l)ut  in  tlieir  hearts  the  two 
men  were  very  different.  With  all  his  sincere  love  for  his 
fellow-men,  it  was  sometimes  possible  for  Mr.  Stephens  to 
make  a  sharp  retort,  and  perhtips  one  of  the  best  he  ever 
nttered  Avas  the  followinii',  when  the  noted  John  1*.  Hale 
onee  remarked  to  him  that  he  mii>ht  be  tempted  to  swallow 
liim  whole  if  he  did  not  take  care,  the  i)rompt  reply  was, 
"•  Yon  wonld  tlien  have  more  ])rains  in  your  belly  than  you 
have  in  your  head." 

In  February,  1882,  I  visited  Mr.  Stephens  with  my 
Japanese  ward,  JNIiss  Ume  Tsuda,  who  expressed  a  wish 
to  see  the  famous  statesman.  He  treated  her  with  the 
utmost  kindness,  asked  her  for  her  autou'raph,  said  many 
pleasant  things,  and  on  hearing  that  she  had  never  visited 
the  extreme  Southern  States,  he  graeefuUy  branclied  off 
into  a  description  of  the  iMidway  district,  where  he  had 
once  been  a  schoolmaster  for  about  one  yt'ar.  The 
place,  he  said,  was  settled  by  Puritans  from  Massa- 
chusetts, in  101)7,  but  wns  now  called  one  of  the  dead 
towms  of  Georgia.  Although  these  Puritans  went  to  the 
South  to  prouK^te  the  cause  of  religion,  they  were  in  con- 
stant fear  of  being  killed  bv  the  Indians:  and  although 
they  were  Northern  people,  they  owned  slaves,  and  in  the 
district  where  there  were  only  three  hundred  and  fifty 
white  people,  there  were  fifteen  hundred  slaves.  In  those 
days  people  went  to  church  on  foot  or  horseback,  and 
were  always  armed  with  guns.  The  number  of  men  who 
signed  the  Declaration  of  Independence  from  (leorgia  was 
three  ;  and  yet,  strange  to  say,  two  of  them  were  from  the 
town  of  Snnl)ury,  in  the  district  of  IMidway,  which  was 
one  of  the  most  enlightened  ;ind  purest  communities  thnt 
ever   existed.      During    the    ye.*ir   18;]2,   whi'U    he    tiiught 


ii 


ALEXANDER   HAMILTON    STEPHENS. 


Soa 


.s  often 
the  two 
for  liis 
lions  to 
ho  ovor 
W  Hulo 
??  Will  low 

)\\  AVtlS, 

hiin  you 

,'ith    my 
a  wish 
vith   tho 
id  nitiny 
r  visitod 
L'liod  off 
lio  had 
.      Tho 
Massa- 
10  dond 
t  to  tho 
|3  in  cou- 
dthon«;li 
d  in  tho 
lid    tifty 
In  tiioso 
ick,  and 
lion  Avho 
r<i'ia  was 
from  tlio 
lioli  was 
tics  tliat 
!    laiijiliit 


school  thoro,  iio  novor  hoard  a  siiiuh^  oath  from  a  whito  or 
hlack  mail,  nor  know  of  a  sin^lo  instaiici^  wiioii  spirituous 
li(luors  wore  sold.  Evorv  man  in  tho  comiiiuiiitv  attondod 
ohuroli,  exeoptin<i'  ono,  and  ho  was  about  half  (h-raii^'od, 
and  it  was  common  to  soo  f<jur  thousand  noi!;roos  attondini!; 
roljoious  sorvicos  on  Sunday,  on  tho  banks  of  tho  rivor 
Midway. 

'I'lio  exporioncos  of  Mr.  Stephens,  first  as  an  orphan  boy 
and  tlioii  as  a  yonniji;  man  in  bad  health  and  stmuLilinji,'  in 
poverty,  liad  a  tendency  to  iiureaso  tho  natural  charity  of 
his  nature.  It  is  a  well-known  fact  that  ho  novor  refused 
an  tippcal  for  lu'lp  from  those  who  were  more  needy  than 
hinist'lf.  'I'jio  instances  in  which  he  took  yoiiUL!;  men  by 
the  iiaiid  to  help  them  on  in  life  arc;  nuinerous,  and  iiere  is 
one  of  them  that  I  now  recall.  One  of  them  called  upon 
him  in  Washington,  on  a  certain  occasion,  and  stated  that 
ho  wanted  to  lie  an  artist,  but  was  too  poor  to  got  along 
witiiout  doing  common  work.  Mr.  Steiihens  aske<l  him  to 
bring  a  spocniuMi  of  liis  skill  in  dv:  A-i.-ig,  /I'his-was  44^!4fev 
and  as  Mr.  Stephens  was  i)leascd  .vitli  it,  he  sent  tho 
young  man  to  a  boarding-house,  gave  him  a  little  sptire 
mono;'  and  paid  all  liis  oxi)onses  ;  and  that  young  man  is 
now  a.  successful  artist. 

The  following  is  a  lirief  summary  of  the  loading  points 
in  the  useful  and  di-<ingnished  life  of  Mr.  Stephens:  IIo 
was  born  in  Taliafero  Co'.inty,  Cia.,  Fob.  11,  lsj2,  and 
on  the  plantation  previously  occupiecl  by  his  father  and 
grandfather,  and  where  he  liimself  always  resided.  That 
estate  contain.ed  eight  huii(U'ed  and  tifty  acres,  and  at  o  le 
time  was  valued  at  twoliundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars. 
His  mother  was  INFargaret  (irier.  and  sister  of  the  famous 
almanac  maker,  Robert  (Jrier  ;  and  his  father's  name  was 
Andrew  !».  Stephens,  who  died  when  the  son  was  fourteen 


II 


hi      ■  fi 


356 


ITAriTAZAUI)    rKRSONALITIKS. 


years  of  age.  After  that  event  tlie  home  plantation  was 
sold,  and  was  suhscciuently  purchased  by  the  son  from  his 
own  earnings.  He  had  one  sister  and  four  l)r()thers,  none 
of  whom  are  now  living.  His  grandfather  served  in  the 
Ivevolntion,  and  was  ])resent  at  the  defeat  of  (Jeneral 
Uraddoek.  lie  graduated  at  Fi'ankliu  Coiiegi!  in  l<s;)2, 
standing  at  the  head  of  his  class  ;  adoi)ted  the  profession 
of  law,  and  entered  public  life  in  bS.'WJ.  lie  was  elected 
to  Congress  in  LSI.'),  serving  therein  for  twentv-six  vears, 
and  was  almost  constantly  in  public  life  until  his  death. 
Ilis  ''  Life  and  Si)eeclies  "  were  })ublished  in  IfSlw,  edited 
bv  Ilenrv  Cleveland,  and  in  1878  a  more  elaborate  acc<Muit 
of  Ilis  career  as  a  statesman  was  published.  He  wrote  a 
work  on  the  '■•  Political  History"  of  the  I'nited  States,  of 
which,  it  is  said,  more  than  one  hundred  thousand  cojjii's 
were  sold. 

In  1882,  and  while  holding  his  seat  in  the  House  of 
l\('l)resentatives,  he  was  elected  governor  of  (Jeorgia, 
'IMic  last  letter  with  which  he  honored  me  was  dated  the 
^)d  of  Fel)ruary,  188,'),  and  in  it  he  speaks  of  his  contem- 
})lated  visit  to  Savannah,  where  ho  was  to  deliver  an  ad- 
dress about  Oglethoipe,  and  from  that  visit  he  I'eturnedto 
his  executive  residence  in  Atlanta,  where;  he  died,  on  the 
4th  of  IMarch,  188;J,  leaving  a  s[)otless  name,  which  will 
coniinue  to  blossom  with  the  coming  vears.  Tributes  of 
respect  and  regret  were  ]»rinted  from  one  ei\d  of  the  coun- 
try to  the  other;  and  tin;  mourners  who  attended  his  re- 
mains to  their  final  ivsting-i)laces  are  said  to  liave  num- 
bered one  hundred  thousand,  tiie  whole  ot  whom  looked 
upon  him  as  a  personal  friend. 

INIy  correspondence  w'ith  IVIr.  Stephens  was  quite  fre- 
quent, and  in  h)oking  over  his  letters  I  have  found  sevei'al 
of  them  which  arc  characteristic  of  tlu!  man,  and  submit 
them  as  follows  :  — 


ALKXANDKU    HAMILTON    tJTKrilKNS. 


.*].■)  7 


CuAWFORDSViLLK,  Ga,  Juno  21,  LS4'J. 

Dear  Sir, — Your  favor  of  tlu;  Mth  inst.,  from  Nor- 
ivifli,  with  its  enc'Iosuri',  was  rcceivi'tl  this  morning.  As 
to  the  "Portrait"  from  tiio  New  York  i)ai)c>r,  pcrliajjs  it 
docs  not  become  me  to  express  an  opinion,  as  I  mi^lit  not 
l)e  considered  a  disinterested  judge  in  (U'ciding  upon  tiie 
merits  of  its  resemhhmee  to  the  original.  The  power  of 
seeing  "  ourselves  as  others  see  us  "  recpiires  a  peculiar 
endowment  whieli  few,  if  any,  possess.  Most  men,  how- 
ever, are  not  insensible  to  what  may  be  the  opinion  of 
others  in  regard  to  them  ;  and  hence  a  general  inclination 
to  know  the  natun;  and  charaett'r  of  tlu;  impressions  pro- 
duced ui)on  the  minds  of  others  by  their  conduct  and 
actions.  And  when  such  impressions  are  justly  and  truth- 
fully given,  they  form  the  most  instructive  and  valuable 
lessons  to  which  a  man,  who  is  anxious  to  know  his  errors, 
in  order  to  correct  them,  can  devote  his  attention  and 
study.  No  knowledge  is  more  important  than  self-knowl- 
edge, and  no  i)hih)so})hy  is  more  essential  for  all  men 
thoroughly  to  understand  than  the  philosophy  of  them- 
selves. If  this  philosophy  were  more  generally  cultivated 
aud  better  imderstood,  and  more  commonly  put  into  prac- 
tice than  it  is,  the  world  would  soon  ])e  infinitely  better  otf 
than  the  most  hopeful  and  sanguine  have  any  reason  to 
expect  to  see  it  in  many  a  day  to  come.  Every  ex})res- 
sion  of  an  honest  opinion  or  the  utterance  of  a  sincere  con- 
viction, though  formed  in  the  most  egregious  error,  in 
relation  to  the  character  or  conduct  of  any  man,  if  lie  be 
wise,  will  always  be  turned  to  a  profitable  and  useful  ac- 
count. And  he/e.  in  endetivoring,  as  I  do,  to  act  upon 
this  principle,  witliout  assuming  the  attribute  which  the 
[)remise  would  seem  to  imply,  such  matters  as  the  "'•  Por- 
U"uit "  (^notwithstanding  I  feel  conscious  uf  its  iucorrect- 


nr)8 


IIAIMIAZAKI)    I'KKSONAMTII'.S. 


news   ill    iiiaiiy  i):irtic'iil!irs)   niv   nover  considered    unwel- 
come or  offensive.      Hut  enouiih  of  this. 

I  sineorely  con^nituliite  you  upon  your  niMrri:i«re,  .mihI 
liope  tliut  llie  ^  iioneynioon,"  in  uliieli  you  :ire  now,  :ie- 
cordinii;  to  your  letter,  '•  iuxuriiitinii"."  witli  so  mueli  ii-isin-e 
and  pleasure,  nuiy  be  the  i)rehi(h'  ol"  :i  ion^'  life  of  pros- 
perity, contentment,  and  h.ipi)iness.  'Die  d:iy  on  which 
you  li:id  informed  \\w,  it  would  takt;  place  did  not  p:iss 
■without  my  thon<»hts  revertiny;  to  a  suhiect  of  so  nnich 
interest  to  you.  And  I  noticed  in  the  httcUlijeuccr^  which 
came  to  liMud  shortly  afterwards,  that  you  had,  at  the 
a[)[)(Mnted  time,  realized  the  full  consunnnntion  of  your 
most  anxious  hopes  ;iiid  wishes.  May  T  not  ask  you  to 
present  my  l»est  wishes  as  well  :is  congratulations  to  Iier, 
Avho.  tliouii'li  i>ers()nally  unknown  to  me,  yet  eonu's  within 
the  range  of  my  kindest  regards  as  the  sharer  of  your  for- 
tunes tln'ougii  lift',  and  the  partnei'  of  your  destiny 
whether  "for  weal  or  for  woe." 

Yours  most  sincerely, 

ALEXAMi)Kit  ir.  STKI'IIKNS. 


Anotlier  letter  which  has  a  bit  of  jxditics  in  it  is  as 
follows  :  — 

CRAWFOUDsyiLLK,  Ga.,  Aug.  24, 1849. 

M]i  dear  aS'/?*,  —  Your  short  letter  of  the  l")th  inst.  was 
receiyed  a  few  days  ago,  and  yesti'rday  I  received  tlu;  In- 
tclUfjeiicer  you  had  the  kindness  to  send  me,  for  which 
})lease  receiye  my  thanks.  I  was  nnich  taken  with  the 
article  on  the  Protocol  which  it  contained,  and  for  whi(;h 
I  suppose  I  was  indel)ted  to  you  for  sending  it.  The  piece 
is  yery  well  and  ably  written.  \\'ho  is  the  author  of  it? 
I  concur  fully  in  the  yiews  and  reasoning  of  the  article. 
I  cousidered  the  conduct  of  the  connnissioners  as  highly 


ai:kxani>kii  Hamilton  stkpiikns. 


nno 


consurnblo  in  transcciuliiiji;  their  powers  mikI  even  inKtrue- 
tion.s.  IJiit  that  was  iiolhiiii;'  to  the  eontluct  of  I'olk  in 
suppres.siii<4'  the  i)M[)er.  'I'hat  was  worse  tiian  censurable, 
it  was  infamous  and  criniiiial.  It  was,  in  my  opinion,  an 
iiiip('a('hal)U'  offence.  Still  I  did  not  think  tliat  tlie  trciaty, 
as  ratilied  hy  oiu'  Senate  and  tlie  .Mexican  t>;overnment, 
was  invalidated  by  it.  The  guarantt'cs  of  tlu;  Protocol 
were  made  without  authority,  and  are  not  binding  upon 
this  government ;  but  Mexico  sliould  have  ])een  informed 
of  this  inunediately,  to  uvoid  ;dl  misunderstanding  and 
dillicultit'S  on  that  iiccount. 

]\Iy  health  is  still  feeble.  1  seldom  leave  the  lionse. 
r»ut  as  the  wi'ather  l)ecomes  more  temperate  I  hope  to  in- 
crease in  strength.  JMy  tinuMS  now  occupied  in  reading, 
except  when  1  am  scribbling  letters,  as  I  lun  at  this  time, 
which  I  do  ])arely  to  let  my  friends  know  that  I  am  in 
esse,  and  cherish  towards  them  all  the  good-will  and  good 
wishes  Avhich  it  is  i)ossible  for  one  mortal  to  entertain  for 
his  fellows.  I  hope;  you  will  let  me  know  if  anything  of 
inter'-jst  occurs  at  the  seat  of  government. 

Yours  most  respectfully, 

Alexander  II.  Stephens. 


Passing  over  a  numl)er  of  letters  which  are  either  too 
privjvte  to  print  or  unim])ortant,  I  now  give  one  Avliich  I 
have  reason  to  believe  was  the  last  which  ^Ir.  Stephens 
wrote  to  a  Northern  man  i)i'i()r  to  the  Rebellion,  excepting 
the  famous  one  to  Abraham  Lincoln,  on  the  1 1th  Decem- 
ber, 18G0  :  — 

Crawfoiidsville,  r.A.,  Sept.  17,  18G0. 

My  dear  >S'/r,  —  Your  esteemed  favor  of  the  9th  was  dul}'' 
received,  as  well  as  the  i)apers  you  sent.  I  had  seen  them 
before.     Such  attacks  1   care  l)ut  little  for.     I   am  truly 


■ 


:!(;() 


HArirAZAlCl)    I'llUSONAMTIKS. 


f\  • 

ii 

if^: 

!'■    ■' 

'M 

<; 

1 ' 

tliMiilvfiil  to  voii,  liowcver,  for  that  interest  vou  must  feel 
ill  NvliiiteviT  relates  to  iiie,  wliiel;  cjuised  you  to  notice  them, 
or  to  eall  mv  uttentlou  to  tliem. 

'I'lu^  eoiKlitioii  of  the  eouiiti'V  is  worse  than  T  ever  knew 
it  to  ]»e  biifore.  Tlie  excitements  of  1<S,')()  and  is.'jd  wi'ic 
not  so  tiireatenin<z;,  in  n.y  o[)inioii,  as  the;  dan^'ers  whieii 
now  beset  us.  AVhat  is  to  become  of  lis  I  cannot  tell.  I 
very  much  fear  there  is  not  virtue  sind  })atriotisni  enoui>h 
In  the  country,  either  North  or  South,  to  save  it.  But 
enouiih  of  this. 

IVIy  health  is  very  poor  iiKh'ed.  T  am  exceedintijly 
feeble  and  debilitated  ;   liavt;  l)i'i'ii  for  several  months. 

I  do  not  recollect  at  this  time  any  corrections  to  su^<j;est 
in  vour  new  edition  of  tlie  '•  Dictionarv  of  CoiiLCress."  I 
Itelieve  I  called  vour  uttention  lu'ri^tofore  to  (liii  omission 
in  the  iirst  edition  of  tlu;  name  of  .lames  L.  Seward  —  ji 
member  of  the  House  from  this  Stati;  —  at  the;  time  the  work 
canu!  from  the  i)ress.  Jiesides  this,  I  do  not  now  think  of 
liny  other.     With  best  wishes,  I  remain  as  ever, 

Yours  truly, 

Ai.EXANDEIt  TT.  Stei'iikns. 

The  following  letters  need  no  explanation  :  — 

LlUKUTV   llAl.I.,   ("nAWFOUDSVILM-:,   Ga., 

.Tunc  i;},  1875. 

j\D/  dear  /Sir.  —  On  mv  return  home  on  vesterdav,  tifter 
a  slKM't  absence,  I  found  your  kind  letter  of  the  8th  iiist., 
and  I  have  to-day  got  3Ir.  (1.  A.  iNIiller,  who  is  my  pres- 
ent secretary,  to  write  to  ^lessrs.  llartridge  and  Smith, 
respectively,  for  the  desired  information.  .1  urged  its  im- 
portance, and  trust  it  will  be  forthcoming  soon. 

1  ;\m  trulv  glad  to  know  that  vou  are  on  tlu^  ei<2:hlh  edi- 

4.  ~  4.'  ~ 

tion  of  vour  most  valuable  work,     i  take  the  occasion, 


! 


ALKXANIH.K    llA.MII/roN   SIT.PTIKNS. 


Ml 


a 


also,  of  Hii<:;<^('stin<4  to  you  tlio  correetioii  of  two  errors  in 
your  first  (Mliti«)ii, — onu  of  omission,  tlio  oilier  of  cum- 
mission  ;  liow  tlu'so  stsuid  in  the  siieoiid  e<lition  I  don't 
know,  ns  niv  copv  of  tiiiit  is  in  Wiislnnirton. 

lint  in  your  lirst  edition  tlu;  naiiu!  of  Scicard^  Ju.  L., 
does  not  appear.  lie  was  a  memher  of  ('on<rress  from 
(leorpjia  witii  me,  several  years;  how  many,  1  don't  re- 
meml)er.  He  is  a  native  of  Oeor«»i;i,  lint  wliere  l>orn  and 
where  edueated  I  do  not  know.  He  is  a  lawyer  l»v  pro- 
fession,  and  lives  in  Thomasville,  Ga.  ;  lu;  entered  the 
State  J  legislature  with  me  in  1H.'](>,  and  went  to  Conirress 
alioiit  l.S'),'),  I  think.  He  cut  (piite  a  figure,  while  there, 
as  a  sparring  debater,  and  in  jiU  sorts  of  log-rolling  for  his 
IJrunswiek  navy  yard.  His  individuMlity  was  as  deeply  im- 
pressed  on  the  House  as  that  of  any  man  in  it,  though  lur 
was  not  held  as  possessing  talents  above  mediocrity.  His 
chara(tteristics  are  peculiar,  and  he  is  to-day,  perhiii)s,  as 
notorious  as  anv  uian  in  Georgia  ;  hence,  he  ought  not  to  bo 
omitted.  You  can  see  from  the  Confjren.sional  Globe  when 
he  was  in  Congress  ;  and  from  the  "Congressional  Direc- 
tories "  of  the  Thirty-fourth  :ind  'IMiirty-fifth  Congresses, 

%.  ft,  I  «  ' 

you    may  uet    the  data  for  a  correct  sketch  of  him.      If 

•  ft.       r? 

not,  you  had  l)etter  writr  to  him  at  'riiomasvilli',  (J;i. 

The  other  error  in  tlie  iirst  edition,  to  which  I  Iimvc 
referred,  occurs  in  the  sketch  of  Irwin,  .lared.  I  do  not 
think  he  ever  moved  to  Pennsylvania.  He  was  born  in 
Micklenburg  County,  N.  C,  in  17r)0,  came  to  Cieorgia 
when  a  l)ov,  and  continued  to  reside  in  this  State  until  his 

ft.    ' 

death  ;  at  least,  this  is  my  o[)ini()ii  on  the  subject.  He 
was  president  of  the  State  Convention,  and  governor  of 
the  State,  and  died  :is  set  forth  in  your  book.  He  died  at 
his  residence  on  Union  Hill.  Washingtxm  County,  (ia., 
March   1,   1818  ;  and  the  Legislature  of   Georgia   subye- 


w 


3(52 


IIAIMIAZAIM)    nCHSONALITIKS. 


'Pi- J 


i,  i 


P''M 


(i 


i 


.J- 


iH 


Uii 


(iui'iitlv  erected  ti  iiionuineiit  to  his  memory.  In  no  sketeh 
of  his  life  I  hiivo  ever  seen,  exee[)t  in  yours,  is  there  any 
mention  of  liis  ever  liavini!;  resi(h'(l  in  Pennsvlvunia. 

Indeed,  I  am  inclined  to  think  the  ei-ror  consists  in  con- 
foundinij;  two  distinct  cliaracters.  The  Irwin  Jured  who 
was  in  Coni»:ress  from  Peinisvlvania,  at  the  time  von  state, 
could  not  Iiave  been  the  (J eor<»;ia  Irwin  Jared,  whose  acts 
and  death  lit  the  latter,  in  your  sketch.  I  am,  moreover, 
inclined  to  think  that  our  Irwin  Jared  never  was  in  Con- 
ijress  at  any  time.  I  see  no  mention  of  any  such  position 
held  hy  him  in  any  ])ai)<'is  connected  with  his  life,  which 
have  fallen  under  my  observation,  except  as  stated. 

Yours  truly, 

Alkxandek  II.  STKniETsrs. 

r.  S.     You    see    the    above    letter    is    penned    by    ]VIr. 

Miller,  thoui>ii  at  mv  dictation. 

A.   II.   S. 

National  Hotel,  WAsiiixcrroN,  D.  C, 

Teh.  10,1882. 

Dear  Mr.  Lanman^  —  Do,  if  you  can  conveniently,  come 
over  and  see  me  soon.  I  wrote  to  Col.  Charles  C.  Jones, 
incpiiriiiL'"  for  the  name  of  the  publishers  of  his  work,  enti- 
tled "The  Dead  Townis  of  Georgia,"  and  told  him  you 
requested  me  to  do  so.  To-dav  I  received  a  verv  kind 
letter  from  him  on  the  subject,  and  instead  of  sendini?  me 
the  name  of  the  publishers,  he  sent  me  a  copy  of  the 
book,  with  a  request  tiiat  I  should  present  it  to  you  in  his 
name.  As  I  cannot  jro  to  see  you,  owing  to  my  crippled 
condition,  do,  if  you  please,  call  and  see  me. 

Yours  trulv, 

Alexander  IT.  Siepiiens. 


ALEXANDKU   HAMILTON    STKl'IIENS. 


3G3 


Atlanta,  Ga.,  Dec.  31, 1SS2. 

My  dear  Mr.  Lanman^  —  Your  very  k'nid  jmd  liiii'lilv 
{ippreeiated  letter  of  CliristiiiMS  cl:iy  \v:is  duly  received,  uud 
you  will  please  accept  my  Bincere  tlituiks  for  it. 

I  shall  look  with  intinvst  for  that  sketch  to  which  you 
said  you  had  just  given  the  linishing  touches.  It  is  indeed 
a  long  time  since  our  acquaintance  was  formed  ;  and  I  c:ui 
truly  sav,  on  mv  part,  that  time  has  only  added  strength 
and  depth  to  the  friendship  then  formed. 

Tour  letter  gave  me  the  llrst  intimation  I  had  of  the 
severance  of  your  ollicial  connection  with  the  Japanese 
deleiiation  in  this  country,  hut  1  doul)t  not  yoiu-  new  voca- 
tion  will  l)e  more  agreeable  as  well  as  profital)le  to  you. 
Art  is  your  ai)[)ropri:tte  realm  or  spliere,  and  I  feel  as- 
sui'ed  that  your  forthcoming  "  Portt'olio  "  will  add  to  your 
already  world-wide  reputation.  You  tisk  if  I  have  any 
filends  to  whom  you  miniit  send  a  copy.  To  this,  please 
allow  me  to  say,  yon  have  one  friend  wiiom  you  'Mnay 
make  happy  "  by  sending  a  copy,  and  that  is,  myself. 

I  know  Paul  II.  Ilayne  well,  lie  is  indeed  a  real 
genius,  .'iiid  also  a  true  and  no])le  nitin. 

With  kindest  regards  and  best  wishes. 

Very  truly, 

Alexander  II.  Stetiiexs. 


;;'i 


i 


the 


Atlanta,  Ga.,  Jan.  2n,  18S:5. 

My  drar  Mr.  Lanman  — Your  letter  of  the  24th  came 
to  hand  by  mail  this  evening,  and  with  it  by  express  came, 
at  the  same  time,  your  ''  Portfolio"  containing  the  ten  pic- 
tures you  mention.  I  had  the  ''  Portfolio"  put  in  the  par- 
lor of  the  executive,  wiiere  they  have  been  greatly  admired 
by  luimerous  callers  this  evening.     I   need  hardly  assure 


304 


IIAril AZAKD    PERSON ALITI  i:S. 


you  that  I  was  greatly  pleased  with  tlieiii,  and  partic- 
ularly the  scenes  in  Geor«'ia,  with  which  I  am  so  well  ae- 
quainted,  —  Tuccoa,  Yonah  Mountain,  Naeoochee  Valley, 
etc.  The  Bowlder  at  Bluck  Island  I  was  much  pleased 
with,  though  hovv  true  to  nature,  I  do  not  know. 

You  have  my  sincere  thanks  for  the  same.  I  shall  look 
with  interest  for  your  forthcoming  book  upon  the  "  Leading 
Men  of  eTapan."     With  continued  kindest  regards  and  best 

wishes,  I  remain, 

Yours  truly, 

AlEXAXDEII    II.    STEniENS. 


Atlanta,  Ga.,  Feb.  8, 1883. 

My  dear  Mr.  Lanman,  —  Your  letter  of  the  2\nh  idt. 
was  duly  received  this  morning.  The  pictures  were  duly 
received  and  greatly  prized  by  me,  as  I  wrote  you  ;  they 
were  also  greatly  admired  by  quite  a  number  of  friends 
who  called  in  the  same  evening  they  came  to  hand.  In 
my  hasty  acknowledgment  of  them,  1  said  nothing  about 
your  drawing  upon  me,  but  was  waiting  ^o  hear  from  you 
as  to  the  price.  No  bill  accompanied  them,  nor  have  I 
received  any  since.  Just  let  me  know  the  proper  nnount, 
and  I  will  myself  promptly  remit,  without  any  draft  on 
your  part.  I  am  truly  glad  to  know  that  y(jur  nevf  enter- 
prise is  succeeding  so  well.  I  have  been  very  nmch 
pressed  with  pulilic  otiicial  duties,  for  the  last  several 
weeks,  in  getting  off  comrMssions  to  the  numerous  county 
oiUcers  in  the  State,  iind  decidinu;  contestiim'  elections, — 
a  duty  tliat  devolves  upon  the  governor  of  (leorgia. 

I  am  to  take  my  first  liolida}'^  leave  from  the  Mansion 
next  week,  Deo  volente,  to  be  present  and  make  an  ad- 
dress ;it  the  cesqui-centenni.'d  of  the  first  settlement  of 
(Jeorgia  l)y  (.)gU>thorpe.     This  is  to  come  off  on  Monday, 


HENRT   Tl.    SCTTOOLCnAFT. 


3r,.T 


the  12th  inst.,  at  Sav.animh.  I  expect  to  leave  throe  or 
four  days  ])efore,  and  he  al)seiit  for  alxxit  a  week.  1  liope 
to  hear  from  yon  hy  the  time  of  my  return. 

Yours  truly, 

Alexandkk  it.  Stephens. 

In  June,  1885,  the  remains  of  INIr.  Stei)hens  were  re- 
moved from  Atlanta  to  C'rawfordsville  and  deposited  in  a 
vault  at  Liberty  Hall,  formerly  the  residenee  of  the  emi- 
nent statesman,  and  hereafter  to  be  utilized  as  an  academy 
for  boys,  under  the  auspices  of  a  memorial  association. 
On  the  day  in  question,  tho  Hon.  G.  T.  Jiarnes  delivered 
an  eloquent  eulogy  on  the  departed  ;  and,  in  si)eakin<»:  of 
his  eoura<>e.  said  that  INIr.  Stephens  "  was  nfrtiid  of 
nothino-  upon  earth,  save  to  do  wrong";  thereby  placing 
him  far  in  advance  of  the  great  mass  of  American  politi- 
cians and  so-called  statesmen. 


'  I 


^ 
t 


HENRY    11.    SCHOOLCRAFT. 

My  acquaintance  with  this  noted  friend  of  the  red  man 
was  commenced  under  my  fatlier's  roof,  when  he  was  a 
member  of  the  Territorial  Legislature  of  ^lichigan,  and  I 
was  a  boy  hunter  on  the  river  L*aisin.  I  knew  liim  aftci-- 
wards  in  New  York,  and  for  many  yenrs  while  a  resident 
of  Washington  City.  Indeed,  it  was  my  [)rivilege  tore- 
side  for  a  time  in  his  home,  when  Professor  Joseph  Henry 
and  his  family  enjoyed  the  same  privilege. 

My  innate  love  of  the  Indians  was  greatly  fostered  by 
my  intercourse,  as  a  bov  and  man,  with  Mv.  Schoolcraft: 


and  the  many  long  talks  that  T  was  wont  to  1 


lav^e  with  him 


about  his  life  in  the  Avild 


ern(;ss,  can  never  be  forgotten. 


And  it  has  always  seemed  to  me  a  sinuul; 


tr  circumstance 


-J  s 
■  I 


WT 


3GC 


IIAPIIAZAIII)    PERSON Al.lTIES. 


I 


tlijit  tlio  ])oy,  whose  head  he  patted  on  tlie  river  Ixaisin, 
shouhl  liave  been  tlie  means  of  introducinji;  the  author  to 
the  i)ul)hslier  of  his  i>reat  work  on  tlie  "  History  of  the 
American  Indians."  Such  w:is  the  case,  however,  and 
this  is  Iiow  it  nil  Imppened  :  I  was  the  lil)rarian  of  the 
AVar  Di'pnrtment,  and  one  day  Mr.  Schoolcraft  came  to 
my  desk  and  snid  that  the  o-overninent  had  Mppropriated  a 
iariL':e  sum  of  money  to  publish  his  forthcomin*^  work,  and 
he  wante(l  me  to  introduce  liiiu  to  a  suital)le  publisher. 
IJppincott  &  Co.,  of  PhihulclphiM,  hnd  just  issued  a  small 
volunu^  fi-om  my  pen,  and  I  natui'Mlly  iixed  upon  that  lirm 
as  the  most  suitable  one  to  bring  out  the  Indian  work,  and 
so  I  <»ave  Mr.  Schoolcraft  a  fricindb'  introduction.  lie 
went  to  Philadelphia,  was  treated  with  nuirkcd  nttenti(>n 
by  the  siforesaid  publishers,  and  a  satisfactory  arrani»;e- 
ment  wms  made  l)etween  the  parties,  which  eventuat,ed  in 
the  expenditure  of  several  hundred  thousand  dollars  of 
go\'cniment  money. 

In  view  of  INIr.  Schoolcraft's  eminent  success  as  an 
autltor.  the  subjoined  Iciulino-  fncts  of  his  life  cannot  ))ut 
be  inlci'cstiuii'  to  the  reader  of  tiiis  notice. 

lie  wns  born  in  vVihany,  N.  V.,  March  2<S,  17'.)o;  edu- 
cated at  ]\Iiddlel)ury  College  ;  in  LSI  7  he  visited  the  West, 
and  ])ul)lished  a  work  entitled  '"  A  View  of  the  Lead 
Mines  of  jNIissouri  "  ;  in  1-S2()  he  was  appointed  geoh)gist 


of  the  exi)loi"ing  expedition,  under  (lener;d  Cass,  to  Lake 
Superior  and  the  head  of  the  Mississippi,  and  i)ublished 
an  account  of  it  in  1<S21  ;  m:uh'  a  second  tour  to  the  West, 
:nid  published  "  Travels  in  the  Centrtd  Portions  of  the 
Mississippi  Valley"  ;  in  lS:i2  he  w:is  a[)pointed  an  Indian 
agent  for  the  Northwest;  from  bS-i.S  to  1<S;]2  he  was  a 
nuMnber  of  the  Territorinl  Li'gislature  of  IMichigan  ;  in  the 
former  ye;ir    founded  the  Michigan    Historical  Society  at 


HENRY   R.    SCHOOLCRAFT. 


367 


Detroit,  and  in  I80I  the  Algic  Society  ;  in  l<So2  lie  mtide 
another  expedition  to  the  West,  and  discovered  tiie  source 
of  the  Mississip[)i,  of  which  lie  i)ul»lished  an  account  in 
]8o4  ;  in  l<SoG  lie  made  an  Indian  treaty,  which  secured 
sixteen  million  acres  of  land  to  the  United  JStates ;  re- 
moved to  New  York  City  in  1<S  1 1  ;  visited  Europe  in  1812  ; 
l)ul)lished,  by  authority  of  the  State  of  New  York,  in 
1.S4H,  "Notes  on  the  Iroquois";  ii])out  that  time  pub- 
lished a  book  of  Indian  legends,  entitled  "  Algic  Jie- 
searches  "  ;  commenced  the  i)uf)lication  in  LS')!),  for  the 
government,  of  "  Historical  Jnformation  respecting  the 
History,  Conditio*-  'Mid  Prospects  of  the  Indian  Tribes  of 
the  United  Statf  .vhich  resulted  in  six  .piarto  volumes, 
illustratv»d  by  C.  tain  Seth  Kastniaii  ;  and  after  many  years 
of  suffer  ng  from  rheumatic  affections,  which  he  l>orc  with 
rare  Chr  stian  fortitude,  he  died  at  his  residence  in  AVash- 
ington  City,  Dec.  10,  1804.  The  total  number  of  his  pub- 
lications, as  his  widow  informed  the  writer,  was  thirty-one  ; 
and  as  tlie  historian  of  the  Americaii  Indians,  he  will 
alwavs  be  considered  the  leading  authoritv.  While  he  did 
not  aspire  to  the  title  of  poet,  he  nevertheless  wrote  verses 
occasionally  ;  and  one  of  his  poems,  because  of  its  asso- 
ciation with  iNiichigan  and  the  fate  of  its  aborigines,  may 
with  propriety  be  appended  to  this  notice.  It  is  entitled 
''  (Jeehale,  an  Indian  Lament." 

"The  blackbh'd  is  .siny;u),iic  011  IVEichii^an's  slioro, 
As  sweetly  and  ^ayly  as  ever  before; 
For  he  knows  to  his  mate  lie  at  pleasure  can  liie, 
And  the  dear  little  brood  she  is  teachin.ij:  to  lly. 
The  suii  looks  as  ruddy  and  rises  as  bri;u:lit, 
And  reflects  o'er  tlie  luouiitaiiis  as  beamy  a  lii^ht 
As  it  ever  reflected,  or  ever  expressed, 
When  my  skies  were  the  bluest,  my  dreams  were  Uw.  ))ej?t. 
The  fox  and  tlie  pantluu*,  both  b(;asts  of  the  night, 
lietire  to  their  dens  on  the  Mleainiiiu:  of  liniit; 


I*'  t 

I! 


3G8 


IIAPIIAZAUD   PERSONALITIES. 


And  they  .spring  with  a  free  and  sorrowless  track, 
For  they  know  tliat  their  mates  are  expecting  them  back. 
Each  bird  and  each  beast  it  is  bk^ssetl  in  degree; 
All  natnre  is  cheerful,  all  happy  but  me. 

"  I  will  go  to  my  tent  and  lie  down  in  despair; 
I  will  paint  me  with  black,  and  will  sever  my  hair; 
I  will  sit  on  the  shore,  where  the  hurricane  blows, 
And  reveal  to  the  God  of  the  tempest  my  woes. 
I  will  weep  for  a  season  on  bitterness  fed, 
For  my  kindred  are  gone  to  the  hills  of  the  dead; 
But  they  died  not  by  hunger,  or  lingering  decay, 
The  steel  of  the  white  man  hath  swept  them  away. 

"  This  snake-skin,  that  once  I  so  sacredly  wore, 
I  will  toss  with  disdain  on  the  storm-beaten  shore; 
Its  charms  I  no  longer  obey  or  invoke, 
Its  spirit  has  left  me,  its  spell  is  now  broke. 
I  will  raise  up  ray  voice  to  the  source  of  the  light, 
I  will  dream  on  the  wings  of  the  bluel)ird  at  night; 
I  will  speak  to  the  spirits  that  whisper  in  leaves, 
And  that  minister  balm  to  the  spirit  that  grieves; 
And  will  take  a  new  Manitou  —  such  as  shall  seem 
To  ])e  kind  and  propitious  in  every  dream. 

"Oil,  then  I  shall  banish  these  cankering  sighs, 
And  tears  shall  no  longer  gush  salt  from  my  eyes ! 
I  shall  wash  from  my  face  every  cloud-colored  stain ; 
Red,  red  shall  alone  on  my  visage  remain ! 
I  will  dig  up  my  hatchet  and  bend  my  ash  bow, 
By  night  and  by  day  I  will  follow  the  foe ; 
Nor  lakes  shall  impede  me,  nor  mountains,  nor  snows, 
His  blood  can  alone  give  my  spirit  repose. 

"They  came  to  my  cabin  when  heaven  was  black, 
I  heard  not  their  coming,  I  knew  not  their  track; 
But  I  saw  by  the  light  of  their  blazing  fusees 
They  were  people  engendered  beyond  the  big  seas. 
My  wife  and  my  children  —  Oh,  spare  me  the  talel 
For  who  is  there  left  that  is  kin  to  Geehale?" 


nENKY    Tl.    SCIKM)F.CKAiT. 


3G9 


My  correspondenoo  with  Mr.  Selioolcruft  was  limited, 
but  the  few  notes  from  iiis  pen  that  I  have  retained  are 
as  follows :  — 

Saturday  :Mokxino,  2  Dec. 
31)/  dear  Sir ^  —  I  called  at  your  lodgings,  niglit  before 
hist,  to  thank  you  for  your  very  liandsome  notice  of  nie 
.aid  what  I  am  about  in  the  Indian  olllce,  which  you  have 
inserted  in  the  Intelligencer,  and  since  had  copied  in  the 
Tribune.  I  am  greatly  indebted  to  you  for  the  kindness. 
It  is  the  first  notice  of  tlie  kind  I  have  had  from  any  quar- 
ter since  I  have  been  in  the  city,  and  cannot,  so  far  as  it 
is  read,  but  tend  to  make  my  position  in  society  here 
better,  or  more  eligibly,  known. 

Very  truly  yours, 

Henry  11.  Sctioolcrattt. 

Having  asked  his  advice  about  the  title  for  a  book,  lie 
writes  :  — 

My  dear  .%•,— The  Indians  call  America  an  island, 
and  say  that  it  grew  from  a  turtle's  back.  The  Iroquois 
call  it  Ilaw-ho-noo.  Could  you  not  avail  yourself  of  this 
id(.ti?_  Glimpses  of  Hawhonoo.  The  ^AVest  is  called 
Ivabiyun,  —  say,  Hambles  in  the  Land  of  Kabiyun. 

Truly, 

II.  II.  Schoolcraft. 

PlITLADELPHTA,  Oct.  27,  1857. 

My  dear  Sir,  —  I  have  received  your  letter,  and  have 

requested  Mv.  L.  to  transmit  you  a  copy  of  the  memoir ; 

and  I  should  feel  highly  gratified  by  a  notice.     I  regret 

that  I  had  not  put  an  index  to  direct  you  to  particular 

su1»j('cts,  as  you  cannot  get  time  to  read  so  long  a  story 

through,  and  it  will  be  diilicult  to  form  a  just  opinion  of 
^4 


■-i  4 


370 


IIArilAZARI)    ri'.USONALITIES. 


its  connection  with  tlic  aljorigincs,  untiquitics,  natunil  his- 
tory, und  tlio  settknnents  of  tlio  i^wut  ]\rississippi  Viilley, 
etc.,  without  pretty  tln-orouiilily  ix'nisino-  it. 

Tlie  Life  is  from  facts  suppHed  by  me,  Init  due  to  an- 
otlier  Hand. 

1  am  l)usy  as  a  hee  with  my  second  vohime  of  "  Indian 
History,"  which  will  be  inost  splendidly  illustrated  by 
Eastman.  Truly, 

Henry  11.  Sciioolckaft. 

Mr.  Schoolcraft  was  twice  married,  his  first  wife  having' 
been  a  beautiful  and  worthy  ("liippewa  woman  of  Lake 
Superior,  and  liis  second  an  acco:;;})lished  lady  of  South 
Carolina,  who  greatlv  assisted  him  in  his  literary  pursuits 
in  Washington,  and  surviyed  him  only  a  few  years. 


k  m 


illi 


GEORGE   B.   McCLELLAN. 

My  feelings  of  admiration  for  General  McClellan,  as  a 
man  and  a  soldier,  were  enthusiastic  ;  and  a  summer  after- 
noon that  I  once  spent  in  his  company  can  neyer  be  for- 
gotten. It  was  in  August,  1808,  after  he  had  retired  from 
the  army,  and  was  recruiting  his  health  in  Connecticut  and 
enjoying  the  companionship  of  his  old  and  attached  friend, 
William  C.  Prime.  It  was  my  i)rivilege  to  take  a  drive 
with  him  along  the  banks  of  the  Thames,  when  we  yisited 
the  fortifications  on  the  heights  of  Groton  and  the  momi- 
ment.  On  hearing  of  his  untimely  death  at  Orange,  N.  J., 
I  ferreted  out  from  my  papers  some  notes  that  I  took  at 
the  time,  and  the  substance  of  which  may  not  be  uuiuter- 
estins:  to  those  who  considered  him  one  of  the  most 
eminent  men  of  his  time. 


GKOUGE    U.    McCLKLLAN. 


371 


Wliile  tukinir  n  view  of  Fort  Tnmibiill,  ns  we  i):isse(l 
iil)WHra  iVoiii  the  IVqiiot  Ilotul,  lio  expressed  suri)iise  that 
the  furjiier  shouhl  luive  been  huilt  where  it  is.  II. •  thouoht 
it  would  liave  been  })etter  to  phice  it  wliere  the  IVc/uot 
House  stands,  and  tiiat  Fort  Griswold  should  have  l)een 
huilt  on  a  hill  nearly  opposite.  For  this  he  oave  two 
reasons,  — llrst,  that  an  enemy  would  thus  be  kept  farther 
off  from  New  London  ;  and,  secondly,  that  any  gun  fired 
from  a  ship  at  Fort  Trumbull  would  be  sure  to  hit  the 
exposed  city. 

Having  recently  visited  :\rontauk  Point  and  IJlock  Island, 
he  spoke  ent^'usiastieally  of  ]m,i1,  (,r  them.  He  thouoht 
the  former  one  of  the  most  interesting  places  he  had  ever 
visited;  its  lonely  g.-and(>nr  had  impressed  him  deeply. 
He  went  to  the  latter  place  with  a  f.-iend,  in  his  admi- 
rable  yaclit,  from  Stouinglon, —going  i,,  one  hour  and 
fifty  minutes,  and  returning  in  one  hour  and  fortv  min- 
utes. 'J^he  sea  was  rough,  but  he  managed  to  take  forty 
hluefish  with  the  hand-line,  mutilating  his  hands  very 
severely.  During  his  stay  at  the  island  it  was  whispered 
to  a  native  that  General  McC'lellan  had  arrived.  ^'  Where 
is  the  man?"  was  the  inquiry.  '^  I  should  like  to  see  him, 
because  1  have  a  son  in  the  war,  and  perhaps  lie  knows 
hini.     Sonie  time  ago,  my  son  sent  me  a  photograph  of  a 

may 


soldier  that  he  thought  everything  of,  and  the  general 
tell  me  his  name."     The    picture  was    subsequently  pro"- 
duced,  and  it  proved  to  be  a  picture  of  the  general  himself. 

iry  works  on  the  heiohts  of 


The  old  and  abandoned  niilit 
Groton  were  niinutel 


y  examined,  with  all  the  enthusiasm 
of  an  engineer  hired  to  do  a  specific  work.  lie  spoke  of 
the  old  fort  and  of  the  water  ])atte 


ry  as  verv  creditable  to 


those  who  designed   them  ;  i)oint('d   out  what  lie  thouoht 


one  mistake,   touchinir  the 


approach  from  the  ncjrtheast, 


872 


iTAPiiAZAiU)  ti:rsonalitiks. 


II 

11 


and  lujido  Hovcn-al  sketches  of  tlie  plnn  of  the  fort.  As 
wc  stood  within  the  battery,  looking  up  jit  the  fort,  I  was 
reminded  of  a  famous  French  picture,  representing  the 
assault  on  the  Redan  at  Sebastopol ;  he  said  that  the 
lied.'in  was  not  as  high  as  the  fort  before  us,  but  th:it 
the  IVIalakoff  was,  perhai)s,  a  little  higher.  As  in  his 
"Crimean  l\eport"  he  gave  nuich  the  greater  cretlit  to 
the  French  army,  he  incidentally  mentioned  this  anecdote. 
At  some  place  on  the  IJlack  Sea,  an  Englishman  was  talk- 
ing with  a  French  oHicer  about  the  siege  of  Sebastopol, 
and  took  pains  to  claim  nicest  of  the  credit  for  his  coun- 
trymen ;  to  which  the  Frenchman  replied,  in  his  own 
tongue,  with  a  little  profanity,  '*  I  don't  recollect  th:\t  I 
saw  a  single!  Englishman  in  the  Crimea." 

Having  ({uestioned  him  in  regard  to  the  scenes  in  his  own 
eventful  military  life  which  he  thcnight  Ix'st  a(hn)ted  for  the 
pencil,  lu'  designated  the  following  as  those  which  made 
the  deei)est  iini)ression  on  his  mind.  'J'he  first  was  his 
arrival  at  the  field  of  Antietam  just  bef(M'e  the  ])attle, 
when,  as  is  well  known,  he  was  welcomed  ])y  the  troojjs  in 
a  manner  that  has  seldom  been  e(pialled  in  history.  The 
particular  moment  to  be  selected  was  when  the  first  fire  of 
the  enemy  was  heard,  and,  without  siieaking  a  word,  he 
involuntarily  rose  slightly  in  his  stii'rups,  and  pointed 
toward  the  enemv  ;  which  movement  was  answered  ])V  a 
shout  that  was  loud  as  the  roaring  of  the  sea  on  a  rockv 
shore.  Another  scene  was  that  when  he  bade  the  army 
farewell  at  Warrenton,  and  when,  as  many  oflicers  present 
have  testified,  he  might,  by  saying  one  word,  have  taken 
his  armv  to  Washington  as  dictator.  Another  sub- 
ject  suited  for  a  ])icture  was  a  view  of  the  Pamumky 
Kiver,  where  his  lieadepiarters  were,  upon  a  commanding 
hill  ;  while  on  the  right  was  spread  out  a  highly  cultivated 


GKOIKiK   II.    McCLKLLAN. 


378 


country,  perfoctly  beautiful  snid  pi-jicoful,  juid  without  a 
single  object  to  reuiiud  one  of  war;  nnd  on  the  left  hand 
was  massed  liis  wlioh;  army  of,  I  think,  ei^lity  thousand 
men.  lie  spoke  of  the  whohi  scene  as  one  of  'jjreat  nov- 
elty, and  as  elofiuently  iUustrating  the  i)ast  and  i)resent 
eondition  of  our  country,  —  peace  and  war.  But  of  all  the 
sad  scenes  that  he  described  with  ])li()to<>rap]iic  accuracy, 
his  arrival  at  Harrison's  Landiny;  was  thi!  most  touchin<»'. 
Niniit  was  comin<^  on,  and  hunuiy,  worn  out  with  fatii^ue, 
and  without  anv  order,  his  Jieroic  troops  were  liti'rallv  l\in<'- 
in  the  nnid,  like  cuttle  mired  in  a  swamp.  Tlien  it  was  that 
one  of  his  ollicers  came  up  to  him  to  consult  him  on  some 
.subject,  but  fell  asleep  before  lie  could  llnish  his  speech, 
and  could  not  be  shaken  out  of  his  stui)or.  lief  ore  twelve 
o'clock  that  night,  the  general  had  visited  every  one  of  his 
regiments,  had  hooked  in  the  face  of  every  man,  and  in 
all  the  multitude  did  not  observe  a  single  sullen  counte- 
nance. Such  heroism  as  iiis  troo])s  then  manifested,  and 
had  always  maiiitested,  he  fi'e(piently  mentioned  as  wholly 
unsurpassed  in  the  history  of  modern  warfare.  Spcakin*'- 
of  the  enthusiasm  which  his  troops  had  always  felt  for 
him,  he  said  it  was  unaccountable,  unless  it  arose  from  the 
fact  that  they  knew  he  was  their  friend. 

On  entering  the  Groton  monument,  he  looked  over  the 
rames  of  those  who  were  killed,  while  ])ravelv  riuhtin<'-  for 
their  country,  and  among  them  were  no  less  than  live  per- 
sons who  were  his  own  kinsmen. 

The  Ivebellion  was  discussed  at  some  length,  and  he  was 
as  decided  in  his  hatred  of  it  as  any  man  could  be.  ]f(; 
thought  the  people,  both  North  and  South,  were  all  still 
lovers  of  the  Union,  and  was  hopeful  as  to  the  final  result. 
Two  things,  however,  nuist  of  necessit\^  be  accomplished, 
before  we  could  enjoy  a  lasting  peace, —  the  destructioa 


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23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


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374 


IIAPHAZAllD   I'KKSONALITIES. 


of  tlio  abolition  purty  by  the  conservatives  of  the  North, 
and  tlie  political  extinction  of  all  the  leadiiii^  secessionists 
and  partisans  of  the  South,  by  the  conservative  population 
of  that  section.  When  the  people  of  the  South  were  will- 
ing to  lay  down  their  arms  and  come  back  under  the  old 
flag,  he  would  be  glad  to  give  them  a  warm  and  cordial 
welcome  and  all  their  rights  under  the  Constitution.  Of 
course  the  blow  that  had  alreadv  been  <i;iven  to  the  institu- 
tion  of  slavery,  no  earthly  power  could  undo.  The  mis- 
management of  the  war  by  the  administration  received 
his  most  earnest  condenniation  ;  and  he  thought  that  none 
of  its  members  seemed  to  have  had  a  realizing  sense  of 
the  impending  troubles  or  of  their  enormous  responsibili- 
ties. Political  selfishness  had  been  the  primary  cause  of 
the  war,  and  demagogue  passions  had  thus  far  controlled 
all  our  military  as  well  as  civil  measures  for  bringing  it  to 
an  end. 

But  what  chiefly  interested  me  in  the  conversation  of 
General  JNIcClellan  were  his  unreserved  opinions  of  the 
iyreat  and  notorious  men  of  the  country,  dead  and  liviuij. 
Webster  he  spoke  of  as  the  greatest  American  intellect  of 
the  age,  and  of  Clay  as  a  statesman  of  the  highest  order ; 
and,  in  view  of  the  Presidency,  what  a  shame  it  was  that 
such  men  should  have  been  set  aside  to  give  place  for 
men  deplorably  inferior  to  them  in  all  those  characteristics 
which  make  men  truly  great.  He  spoke  of  Scott  in  the 
most  affectionate  terms  as  a  man,  and  as  a  patriot  and 
general  most  enthusiastically. 

Speaking  of  Farragut's  exploits  on  the  Mississippi  he 
said,  "  He  must  be  a  grand  old  fellow  ;  I  should  like  much 
to  see  him." 

The  sudden  and  excessive  zeal  of  General  Lorenzo 
Thomas  in  organizing  negro  troops  seemed  to  him  most 


■I  ■  ■  ■'  ■'■TTrancmx 


GEOIIGE   B.    McCLELLAN. 


375 


amazing ;  hut  there  was  midonhtedl}'  a  suggestive  reason 
for  it.  Time  would  prove  tliat  liis  position  in  the  army 
hung  hy  a  slender  thread,  and,  when  ordered  to  perform 
the  unique  work  assigned  to  him,  it  was  not  believed  he 
would  consent ;  but  love  o^  ^flice  prevailed. 

In  all  that  he  uttered   aboii    the  men  who,  as  manv 
allege,  acquitted  themselves  unhandsomely  during  the  war, 
he  was  perfectly  kind  ;  but  the  facts  he  submitted  seemed 
to  me  very  telling  in  their  character.     lie  generally  alluded 
to  the  erring  men  as  misguided,  not  attributing  unworthy 
motives  to  them.     If  there  was  an  exception,  it  was  in 
the  case  of  a  noted   general,  who  did    not  send  on  the 
promised  supplies  when  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  was 
ragged  and  barefooted.     The  squabbles  in  the  Cabinet  he 
ridiculed  more  in  sorrow  than  in  anger.     The  personal 
hostility  of  Secretary  Chase  he  depicted  in  the  most  graphic 
manner,  but  attributed  it  to  fanaticism,  arrogance,  and 
overweening  ambition.     His  pictures  of  President  Lincoln 
in  society  were  very  interesting,  and  ho  praised  him  highly 
as  a  true  man  and  statesman.     Secretarv  Bates  lie  thought 
the  most  upright  and  sensil)lo  man  in  the  Cal)inet.     Sew- 
ard was  great  in  the  cunning  Hue  ;  Stanton,  just  what  the 
world  thought  him  ;   and  lilair,  Welles,  and  Smith  alto- 
gether unfit  for  their  positions,  though  highly  respectable 
as  gentlemen. 

During  our  conversation  on  military  affairs,  the  general 
asked  me  how  it  was  that  I  was  not  numbered  among  the 
defenders  of  my  country  ;  and  I  brought  a  smile  to  his  face 
l)y  this  rei)ly  :  that  I  had  served  as  a  prisoner  of  war  for 
three  hours,  when  Secretary  Stanton  had  me  arrested  be- 
cause I  happened  to  be  an  occasional  Washington  corre- 
si)ondent  for  the  good  old  Journal  of  Conwierce  of  New 
York,  and  caused  my  release  when  he  found  out  that  I  liad 


370 


IIAniAZAllD   1>KUS0NAL1TIES. 


|(>*i  ! 


} 


hi 


lif  t 


(     '  ;' 


i       I 


Ui    'i 


\ki  Hi 


not  printed  any  unpatriotic  opinions.  Another  remark 
that  I  made  to  the  general  was  as  follows  :  That  when  the 
husiuess  of  recruitino;  vras  at  its  heiglit,  I  Imd  a  dream  in 
which  I  liad  shouldered  a  musket  and  joined  his  forces  in 
Virginia  ;  and  that,  on  entering  a  battle,  I  threw  down  my 
gun  and  ran  toward  the  rear  like  a  deer  ;  whereupon  I  he- 
came  convinced  that  I  could  never  do  anvthing  in  that  line 
to  save  my  countrv.  llis  comment  on.  my  confession  was 
that  warriors  were  not  made  out  of  such  material  as  I  rep- 
resented myself  to  be. 

The  correspondence  with  which  General  McClcUan  hon- 
ored me  during  our  long  acquaintance  was  in  keeping  with 
his  hiah  character  as  a  friend  and  gentleman  ;  and  the 
three  letters  which  I  now  sul)mit  to  my  readers  will  not 
only  explain  themselves,  but  also  give  an  insight  into  the 
working  of  his  mind  on  certain  important  topics  of   the 

day. 

TnENTox,  Nov.  17,  ]S()2. 

Mil  dear  Sir, — Yoiu*  very  kiud  note  of  the  11th  is  re- 
ceived, and  I  thank  you  most  sincerel}'^  for  it. 

I  believe  you  are  right  in  saying  that  my  enemies  are 
the  ultra  fanatics  on  both  sides,  —  alike  traitors  ;  at  least 
I  draw  that  inference  from  the  multitude  of  letters  which 
reach  me  from  many  sources.  The  possession  of  tlie  es- 
teem of  the  good  and  honest  among  mv  countrymen  would 
compensate  me  for  any  real  evil  of  magnitude,  much  more 
so  under  circumstances  like  the  present,  when  I  am  really 
more  pleasantly  situated  than  I  have  been  since  the  begin- 
ning of  the  war. 

Again  thanking  you  for  the  kind  feeling  you  have  so 
often  evinced  for  me,  I  am, 

Most  sincerely  your  friend, 

Geo.  B.  McClellax,  Major-General, 


IKl'.Jli LULIUL'J-; 


GEOllGE   li.    Mt;CLELLAN. 


un 


Oraxge,  X.  J.,  Dec.  7,  1800. 

31//  dear  Mr.  Lamnan, —Your  very  kind  letter  of  the 
1st  duly  renehed  me.  I  am  much  indebted  to  you  for  the 
extract  from  Mr.  Emerson  Etlieridge's  letter,  i.nd  assure 
you  that  there  are  very  few  people  in  this  nation  whose 
good  opinion  I  value  so  much  as  his,  —  a  man  who  lias 
gone  through  tlie  most  severe  ordeal  in  the  fiery  trials 
through  which  we  have  all  passed. 

1  value  the  good  opinion  of  such  meu  far  more  than  I 
could  the  Presidency  without  it.  I  feel  very  unconcerned 
about  that  high  but  very  undesirable  ollice.  I  have. not, 
nor  shall  I,  ever  uiove  one  finger  to  obtain  it.  If  it  comes 
to  me,  it  must  be  as  the  spontaneous,  unsolicited  act  of 
the  people,  and  not  as  the  result  of  any  effort  or  bargain 
on  my  part. 

A  man  who  so  little  appreciates  the  vast  responsil»iliti(>s 
of  the  next  Presidency  as  to  strive  for  or  desire  it  iimst,  in 
my  judgment,  be  devoid  of  sense.  If  it  comes  to  me,  I 
shall  regard  it  as  the  work  of  IVovidence,  and  trust  tluit 
God  will  answer  my  prayers  and  eiuil)le  me  to  act  for  the 
good  of  my  poor  country.  If  it  falls  to  another,  1  shall 
be  too  glad  to  escape  the  inevitable  tritds  of  such  a  posi- 
tion, lint  I  think  tliat  no  one  can  yet  foresee  wlio  is  to 
be  the  next  President.  Events  uiarch  now  with  sucli  great 
speed  that  new  issues,  unheard-of  men,  may,  at  the  end  of 
another  year,  be  the  arl)iters  of  our  destiny.  I  am  con- 
tent now,  since  I  cannot  be  in  the  field,  to  sit  upon  the 
bank  and  wait  tlie  wind. 

So  the  poor  Army  of  the  Potomac  has  again  been  made 
a  sluittleco(  k  of  !  Will  they  never  learn  that  Richmond  is 
not  to  be  ttdcen  by  tlie  Chilpepper  or  the  Ai 


Will 


piia  route  ? 
you  thtink  Mv.  Etheridge  for  me  for  his  kind  o 


I 


pin- 


378 


IIAl'lIAZAIiU    riCKSONALlTIKS. 


ion?     AikI   believe   'Me,  vvitli  the  iiiu.st  pleastiut  reeollee- 
tioiis  of  the  New  Loudon  visit,  ever 

Your  sincere  friend, 

Geo.  B.  McClellan. 


pN 


i 


!:,■ 


!•;  i 


%  ■ 

(ti! ': 


I 


\l 


m 


Orange,  ITov.  16, 1864. 

My  dear  Mr.  Lanman^ — Your  kind  note  of  the  10th 
duly  reached  me. 

If  I  entertained  any  sentiment  of  personal  chagrin  at 
the  result  of  the  late  election,  it  would  have  been  at  once 
dispelled  l)y  the  many  evidences  of  regard  and  friendship 
I  Jiave  since  received  from  those  whom  I  most  respect. 
Fortunately,  perhaps,  1  regarded  the  contest,  from  the  be- 
ginning, as  one  involving  the  great  interests  of  the  nation, 
and  as  of  too  great  magnitude  to  leave  any  room  for  per- 
sonal feelings  or  ambition  ;  so  that  when  the  end  canie 
there  was  no  person;. I  mortification  to  be  soothed;  but  I 
am  none  the  less  grateful  to  my  friends  for  the  warm 
interest  they  display  for  me,  and  shall  never  cease  to  en- 
tertain the  most  sincere  gratitude  towards  them. 

I  do  not  yei  despair  of  the  Republic,  but  believe  that, 
after  man}"  trials  and  sufferings,  we  shall  at  last  recover 
our  old  institutions  and  our  former  glory,  and  come  out  of 
the  fiery  furnace  i)urified  and  strengthened. 

At  all  events  our  course  is  clear,  and  that  is  to  stand 
firmly  by  the  great  principles  we  have  advocated,  and 
never  forget  that  we  have  still  a  country  to  save,  whenever 
God  permits  us  to  act  in  its  behalf.  I  beg  that  you  will 
express  to  INIr.  Seaton  and  ]Mr.  AVelling  my  high  apprecia- 
tion of  the  noble  course  tliey  have  pursued,  and  believe  me, 


Ever  your  friend, 


Geo.  B.  McClellan, 


JOHN    TRUMBULL. 


379 


The   fact   is  very  sujrgestive   thtit   General   McClelhia 
should  huve  died  only  u  few  weeks  after  Geneml  (}rant, 
Jus  prominent  rival  fov  military  glory  and  in  the  political 
world.     In  life   they  were  personally  divided,   and   were 
both   associated  with  the  strife  of  human  passions  ;   but 
they  are  now  in  a  happier  land,   where  peace  and  love 
reign   supreme.     AVhatever   may   be   the   verdict   of    the 
presen^t  generation  in  regard  to  the  merits  of  these  two 
men,  it  is  ct;rtain  that  posterity  will  cherish  the  name  of 
McClellan  as  one  who  had  no  superior  as  a  model  Ameri- 
can, on  the  score  of  genius,  pure  and  elevat-'d  character, 
and  unsellish  patriotism.     The  character  of  the  man  was 
oxemplilled   by  the  fact  that,  when  he  thought  that  his 
death  was   approaching,  he  made  a  special  request  that 
tliere  should  be  no  more  display  at  his  funeral  '^  than  th:.t 
of  a  simple  citizen."     He  had  witnessed  too  much  of  the 
mockery  of   woe    to   desii-e  a  luilitary   requiem    over    his 
grave,  confident  that  he  had,  what  he  wanted,  a  place  in 
the  heart.:  of  his  countrymen,  whom  he  had  tried  to  serve 
to  the  extent  of  his  ability. 


ill 


eTOlIN  TRUMBULL. 

(Writtou  by  request,  for  the  work  entitled  ''  Art  and  Artists 
ni  Connecticut,"  by  II.  W.  French.) 

When  a  man  of  mark  has  been  dead  for  the  third  of  a 
century,  and  left  to  the  world  a  full  and  interesting  autJ. 
biography,  it  must,  of  necessity  be  a  dillicult  task  to  write 
anything  new  of  him  ;  but,  in  the  case  of  John  Trumbull, 
the  time  has  not  yet  passed  when  a  general  but  brief 
survey  of  his  personal  characteristics  as  an  artist  and  a 
man  may  not  be  both  interesting  and  profitable. 


380 


HAPHAZARD    PERSONALITIES. 


^  i  ill'' 


m 


i|:  i-^n: 


4 


m  ^>v 


He  wjiH  tlie  Bon  of  Joiuithau  Truinbull,  tlie  colonial 
governor  of  Connecticut,  endearingly  called  by  Washing- 
ton ''  Brother  Jonathan."  He  was  born  in  Leba*ion,  Con- 
necticut, Juno  0,  175G  ;  and  though,  from  a  nialforinatioii 
of  his  head,  it  was  thought  he  could  not  live,  he  manifested  a 
love  for  books  at  an  early  age.  He  graduated  at  Harvard 
College  in  1773,  and  having  formed  the  acquaintance  of 
the  artist  Jolni  Singleton  Copley  in  Boston,  he  forthwith 
turned  his  attention  to  painting.  He  however  deemed  it 
his  duty  to  join  the  army  in  1775,  as  an  adjutant,  and 
having  rendered  some  special  service  by  drawing  plans 
of  the  English  fortifications,  was  made  aidc-de-canvp  to 
Washington  ;  server  1  with  Gates  in  the  Northern  Army  as 
adjutant-general,  but  resigned  his  commission  in  1777. 
Having  resumed  tlie  pencil,  he  went  to  Paris  in  1780  ; 
thence  to  London,  where  he  studied  art  with  Benjamin 
AVest,  by  whom  he  was  highly  appreciated.  While  there 
he  was  suspected  Jis  being  a  spy,  and  having  been  ar- 
rested was  imprisoned  for  nearly  eight  montlis,  amusing 
himself  in  prison  by  paintiufT.  \-7])',  a  arrested,  and  ques- 
tioned as  to  his  antecedents,  he  made  this  reply:  ''  I  am 
an  American,  and  my  name  is  Trumbull.  I  am  a  son  of 
him  vou  call  the  rebel  oovernor  of  C*onnecticut.     I  have 

ft  Cj 

served  in  the  rebel  army.  I  have  had  the  honor  of  being 
an  aide-de-Gcnnp  to  him  you  call  the  rebel  George  Wash- 
ington. I  am  entirely  in  your  power ;  treat  me  as  you 
phrase  ;  always  remembering  that  as  I  may  be  treated,  so 
will  your  friends  in  America  be  treated  by  mine."  On 
being  released  through  the  influence  of  West  and  such 
men  as  Charles  James  Fox  and  Ednnmd  Burke,  he  re- 
turned to  America  in  1782.  He  again  visited  England, 
and  returned  in  1789.  In  17i)4:  he  went  to  England  as 
secretary  to  John  Jay,  and  passed  about  ten  years  in  the 


JOHN   TIlTTMimLT.. 


nf<i 


diplomatic  service.  In  1811  he  once  a«T<iin  visited  Enjr- 
land  and  reinaiiied  four  years  ;  he  then  returned  to  New 
York  City,  where,  witli  tlie  exception  of  a  brief  Bojourii  in 
New  Haven,  lie  remained  until  his  death,  Nov.  10,  l.S  I;}. 
In  addition  to  the  positions  already  mentioned,  he  held 
that  of  president  of  the  American  Academy  of  Fine  Arts, 
and  as  such  did  much  to  foster  the  love  of  art  in  the 
United  States.  As  lie  advanced  in  years,  he  collected  liis 
unsold  i)alntings  into  a  g-allery,  wliich  he  disposed  of  to 
Yale  College,  on  the  ccjudition  that  he  should  receive  an 
annuity  of  fifteen  hundred  dollars  during-  the  ])a,lance  of 
his  life,  which  arrangement  enabled  liim,  with  other  in- 
come, to  reach  the  end  in  comfort  and  peace. 

During  this  long  period,  Colonel  Trumbull  was  con- 
stantly studying,  if  not  practising  his  favorite  art.  Aside 
from  the  many  portraits,  and  small  miscellaneous  pictmvs 
that  he  painted  for  his  friends,  —  of  which  sixtv-ei<'ht  were 
painted  before  he  was  twenty-five  years  of  age,  —  there 
are  many  always  accessible  to  the  public  in  Wasliington, 
Hartford,  New  Haven,  New  Y^)rk,  and  Boston,  or  Cam- 
bridge, ranging  in  size  from  miniatures  in  oil  to  large  pro- 
ductions. Of  the  portraits,  the  largest  proportion  are  not 
only  excellent  as  works  of  art,  but  invaluable  as  contri- 
butions to  history.  The  larger  historical  paintings  in  the 
national  Capitol,  in  spite  of  some  deficiencies,  must  always 
be  highly  esteemed,  because  of  tlieir  siil)jects  ;  while  the 
eight  smaller  productions  connected  with  the  Revolution, 
and  forming  a  part  of  the  New  Haven  collection,  cannot 
])ut  command  the  applause  of  competent  critics.  In  tech- 
nical skill  Colonel  Trumbull  was  of  course  greatly  behind 
such  men  as  INIeissonier  and  others  of  that  stamj),  who  are 
merely  successful  rivals  of  the  photograph  ;  but  so  far  as 
the  higher  objects  of  art  are  concerned,  the  Americvjin  will 


882 


IIAl'lIAZAUD    VKUSONALITIKS. 


h ! 


f 


alwjiYH  stand  on  ji  inncli  liiulicr  i)l:ine  thsiU  the  famous 
Fivnc'lnwiin.  Tluit  TnnnbuU  was  a  groat  master  cannot, 
however,  be  reasonably  chiinicd  ;  but  in  view  of  the 
pioneer  times  in  wliieli  he  lived,  and  of  tlie  work  accom- 
pHshed  l»y  him,  he  must  of  necessity  always  command  the 
hiii;hest  respect  ol"  his  countrymen,  notwitlistanding  the 
cl:ip-tra[)  doings  and  ])ernici()ns  inlhience  of  certain  New 
York  picture  dealers.  Tliat  he  was  a  conscientious  worker 
is  proved  by  the  fact  tiiat  he  travelled  from  one  end  of 
the  country  to  the  other  to  collect  likenesses  of  the  men  he 
proposed  to  depict  on  canvas.  That  lie  should  have 
conceived  the  idea  of  perpetuating  the  great  events  of  the 
Kevolution  with  his  pencil,  gives  evidence  of  a  superioi* 
mind  ;  that  he  should  have  undertaken  such  a  task  proves 
his  courage  ;  and  that  he  shonhl  have  accomplished  it  so 
successfully,  imder  the  most  adverse  circumstances,  ex- 
hibits him  as  possessed  of  rare  pluck  and  perseverance. 

A  leading  characteristic  of  this  soldier-artist  was  his 
apparent  simse  of  superiority  over  other  men.  It  is  true 
that  he  belonged  to  a  family  whose  estaitcheou  had  never 
been  sullied  by  an  unworthy  act,  and  that  he  numbered 
among  his  personal  friends  such  men  as  AVashington,  Jef- 
ferson, John  Adams,  and  IMonroe,  if  not  IMadison  ;  but  ho 
was  ill  reality  a  lover  of  his  fellow-men,  and  his  seeming 
hauiihtiness  was  merely  a  physical  i)eculiarity.     Nor  was 

~  ft,  1.  ft  .  X  ft, 

it  true  that  his  dignity  always  militated  against  his  in- 
fluence. When,  in  1777,  the  Continental  Congress  treated 
him  with  seeming  itcgJoct  in  not  promptly  sending  him  a 
commission  for  promotion,  according  to  the  advice  of 
General  Gates,  he  returned  the  conunission  with  a  letter 
of  explanation,  in  which  he  made  this  uuinly  remark  :  "•  If 
I  have  committed  any  crime,  or  neglected  any  duty,  since 
I  engaged  in  the  service  of  my  country ;  if  I  have  per- 


JOHN  TUUMBULL. 


883 


formed  any  action,  or  spoken  any  word  in  mv  public 
character,  unworthy  of  my  rank,  U't  iue  be  tried  by  coni- 
rades  and  broke  ;  but  I  must  not  l,e  thou-ht  so  destitute 
of  feehnjr  us  to  bear  degradation  tamely."  If  that  Ian- 
gunge  proyed  him  to  be  an  aristocrat,  the  more  of  such 
people  we  have  in  public  life  the  better  will  it  be  for  the 
country. 

The  si)ecial  meml)er  of  Congress  who  acted  for  him  in 
this  matter  hastened  to  inform  him  tlint  a  mistake  had 
been  counnitted,  and  thnt  his  character  was  unblemished 
lu  the  opinion  of  those  who  should  haye  prouiptlv  for- 
warded the  connnission.  IIo  also  intimated  thnt  Colonel 
Trumbull  had  better  write  another  letter,  and  Msk  for  his 
commission.  In  reply  to  this  suggestion,  ho  sMid:  "I 
haye  neyer  asked  any  oflice  in  the  public  seryice  ;  nor  will 
I  ever  do  so.  The  very  request  would  acknowledge  and 
prove  my  nnworthiness." 

Colonel  Trumbull  luu;  a  reputation  for  rudeness  among 
the  artists  ;  but  it  need  not  by  any  means  follow  that  he 
teas  rude  ;  for  artists  are  proverbially  sensitive,  and  may 
have  misjudged  him.     For  example,  he  entered  a  young 
pamter's  studio  one  morning  and  inquired,  "  Youn<r"^  nuuf 
how  fast  do  you  paint?"     The  answer  was  given.    ""  And 
how  much  do  you  get  for  your  portraits  ?  "     "  Only  fifteen 
dollars,  sir."     "  And  quite  enough,"  ol)scryed  tliJ  visitor, 
and   then   added;     "Young   man,    rememb(M-   this,    nine 
painters  out  of  ten,  great  and  small,  err  in  drnwing"  ;  and 
went  his  way.     It  was  an  excellent  piece  of  advice  ;  but 
It  made  that  artist  an  enemy  to  the  critic  for  tlie  balance 
of  his  days.     He  told  nnother  young  artist  he  had  better 
become  a  shoemaker,  and  that  youth  afterwards  admitted 
that  the  colonel's  philosophy  was  true.     Tt  was  long  a  pro- 
verbial expression,  originally  uttered   by  Trumbull,  that 


884 


IlAPIIAZAUl)    I'KUSONALITIKS. 


^P 


the  framo-maker  usuany  made  more  money  than  the 
pauittM-,  thereby  iiulieatinjjj  that  many  people  had  no  hiiHi- 
nesB  with  the  pencil. 

For  thoroii«^li,  okl-school  politeness  and  courtliness  Co]- 
onel  Trun>.bull  had  few  equals.  Lafayette,  one  of  liis 
most  intimate  friends,  said  that  his  works  should  be  th  > 
first,  if  not  the  onlv,  ornaments  of  his  dwellino;.  John 
Jay,  Alexander  Hamilton,  Stephen  Van  Rensselaer,  and 
other  men  of  tiiat  stamp  took  pleasure  in  his  companion- 
ship ;  and  with  J)avid  Ilosaek.,  DeWitt  Clinton,  Kobert  i{. 
Livingston,  and  other  noted  New-Yorkers,  he  was  inti- 
mately associated  in  promoting  a  taste  for  tlie  line  arts, 
and  in  conducting  the  affairs  of  the  old  American  Acad- 
emy. And,  so  far  as  the  estimation  in  which  he  was  held 
,l)y  the  public  generally,  both  Jis  a  man  and  an  artist  is 
concerned,  there  is  nothing  that  can  speak  more  eloquently 
than  the  three  hundred  and  forty-four  names  which  were 
subscribed  for  a  series  of  engravings  from  his  paintings 
as  far  back  as  the  year  1790.  It  is  a  royal  list  of  names 
which  would  never  have  l)een  recorded  in  favor  of  a  connnmi 
man.  Horace  "VYalpole  spoke  of  his  painting  of  Ciibraltar 
as  the  finest  he  had  seen  nordi  of  the  Al[)s  ;  and  when  vSir 
Joshua  Reynolds  uttered  some  of  his  petty  criticisms,  he 
did  not  dream  that  some  of  his  own  pictures  would  one  day 
be  ridiculed  for  their  feebleness  and  fading  qualities. 

In  the  autumn  of  1815,  Colonel  Trumbull  returned  to 
America  with  his  English  wife,  a  lady  of  rare  beauty  and 
elegant  manners  ;  but  the  story  of  her  origin  has  alwtiys 
been  involved  in  mystery.  She  died  in  1824  ;  and  for 
nearly  nineteen  years  her  devoted  husband  kept  her  por- 
trait, which  he  had  painted,  closely  veiled  at  the  head  of 
his  l)ed.  This  portrait  was  bequeathed  by  Colonel  Ti'um- 
buU   to   his   niece,  Miss   Abby  T.  Lanman,  of   Norwich, 


JOHN  TKUMIJl  L(. 


88.1 


th.'in  tlu' 
I  no  hiini- 

ncHS  Cfil- 
iC  of    liis 

1(1    1)0    tllJ 

g.  Jolm 
,'biLM',  jiiid 
iiipuiuou- 
iobert  il. 
was  iiiti- 
liiie  nrts, 
:!iii  Acad- 
was  lu'ld 
1  artist  is 
loqiunitly 
hit'] I  were 
paintings 
of  iiaiiK'S 
iconinioii 
Cii])raltai' 
when  vSir 
cisnis,  lie 
d  one  dav 
ties. 

turned  to 
iauty  and 
as  alwijys 
;  and  for 
t  lier  por- 
e  head  of 
lel  Trnni- 
Norvvicli, 


arfoiiows'  "^-sl"' '"  '^;" "™" '"  '"^ '''""'  •- "-  --..to 

an     snuoM  y   wise  to  oonnHcl,  ki„,I  t„  ,.„„s„ie,  1,^,  f,,  t,,„ 

Lr;':r:i;;::!,:  ?.'  ■"^'  -"  ^^"^^'  ^-"'"'  w:.: :!:: 

The  wintf-  of  ] 81 9,  Colonol  Trnmbnll  spent  in  llartfor.1 

CO  onnt  ,.e  was  not  equal  to  St„a.t,  nor  ctnl.    be  Hval 
Copley  .„  „,„„i„,,^  ^„^„  ^j  ^^j^^^^^^  ^^^^^  ^ .  •;«      v. 

ceue  1  tlitn.  both.     Connecticut  nui,y  well  bo  pro.i,]  tint  be 
was  bon,  on  her  soil,  that  „,ost  of  his  best  pr  .,h     io       ' 
mhc.,„ion,  and  that  his  ashes  andLetlh:: 

My  personal   recollections  of   Colonel  Trnmbnll  were 
Inmted  to  my  acquaintance  with  him  durin.       .       .? 
years  of  his  life.     I  ,.„s  at  that  tiu,e  T^^^t^^ 

an  alliance  by  marrino-o      Ti„     i  ,  ">.ioic  iiecn 

„f  ^  1  ,  "lainage.  He  always  treated  me  with  tl,o  , 
utmost  kuidness;  seemed  indeed  to  be  „  '  """  y"' *«  ' 
lover  of  l,l«  »„„„  ,       "*-•-"  ^°  "^  a  warm-hearted 

lover  of  hs  race  everywhere;  but  while  he  foro-,ve  l,„ 
could  not  always  forget  that  he  had  been  the  vict  m  of  I, 
treatment  from  some  of  his  fellow-artist  ehf  .no  ! 
those  he  censured  being  Willia.n  Dunlap  a  ul  T hm  "  f 
Cummmgs.  The  artistic  battle  which  w.^s  wa.ed  bre;n 
hunand  the  men  who  really  f  „„,„«„  „e  Nationt  Ac-urem; 
of  Design  was  more  bitter  than  it  should  have  been  ;£ as 


r,8G 


nAPIIAZATlD   rERSONALITTES. 


iK'illier  of  the  parties  were  immaculate,  the  ])itterness 
which  was  manifested,  and  has  ])een  perpetuated  in  print 
hy  the  two  artists  just  named,  v  Ul  ever  remain  inexcusable. 
Dunlap,  we  all  know,  had  ability,  but  was  crotchety  ;  but 
when  we  remember  that  Cummin<>;s  was  never  anvthinij 
more  than  an  oi'dinary  miniature  painter,  it  is  refreshing 
to  recall  his  statement,  that  the  faults  of  Trumbull  were 
due  to  his  education.  When  he  died,  however,  even  the 
National  Academy,  through  Professor  S.  F.  B.  Morse, 
honored  itself  by  paying  him  tiie  homage  to  which  he  was 
so  justly  entitled. 

On  one  occasion,  I  remember,  while  seated  with  him 
in  his  ])arlor,  he  suddenly  pointed  to  a  blank  wall  and 
saitl ;  -  - 

"  Let  those  who  think  it  an  easy  thing  to  paint  a  pic- 
ture, go  to  that  wall  and  make  it  tell  a  story  !  It  is  a  very 
hard  thing  to  do.  To  produce  a  picture  or  a  book  that  is 
fit  to  live,  is  a  power  which  very  few  men  possess." 

Among  the  many  engravers  with  whom  Colonel  Trum- 
bull had  ])usiness  transactions,  there  were  none  of  them 
with  whom  he  was  on  more  i)leMsant  terms  than  Mr.  John 
F.  E.  Prud'homme,  but  their  first  acquaintance  was  not 
particularly  edifying.  When  he  was  young  and  working 
for  another  engraver  already  established,  he  was  requested 
one  day  to  call  on  Colonel  Trumbull,  and  tell  him  tlint  the 
proof  of  an  engraving  was  then  ready  to  be  seen,  which 
the  engraver  had  been  making  from  one  of  the  painter's 
portraits,  and  after  Prud'homme  had  delivered  the  mes- 
sage, the  painter  suddenly  exclaimed,  "It  is  the  business 
of  Mr.  Bhink  to  send  that  proof  to  me,  and  I  shall  not 
submit  to  his  impudence."  Sixteen  years  afterwards,  when 
Mr.  Prud'homme  had  occasion  to  engrave  a  portrait  by  the 
same  painter,  he  went  in  person  to  submit  a  proof  of  his 


JOHN  TRUMBULL. 


387 


work,  when  he  was  very  kindly  received  by  tlie  colond, 
who,  as  he  placed  liis  name  upon  tlie  proof,''to()k  occasion 
to  compliment  the  eugvaxGr  in  hioli  terms.  Not  only  that, 
but,  in  a  playful  manner,  he  recalled  tlie  orioinul  interview 
between  the  parties,  asserting  that  there  were  always  cer- 
tain proprieties  to  be  observed  even  between  men  who  were 
quite  equal  in  all  particulars. 

In  the  various  conversations  that  I  had  with  this  erai- 
nent  man,  he  touched  upon  so  great  a  variety  of  personal 
incidents,  that  I  felt  myself   to  be  in  the  presence  of  a 
most  remarkable  character.     I  was  with  him  in  fancy,  as 
he  struggled  with  his  books  in  college ;  as  he  talked  with 
military  men  al)out  the  better  plans  for  overcoming  a  wily 
enemy  on  the  battle-field  ;  while  struggling  with  Adverse 
circumstances  in  painting  the  pictures  by  which  he  hojied 
to  perpetuate  the  honor  of  his  country,  and   the  personal 
appearance  of  our  greatest  heroes ;  as  he  went  to  prison, 
defying  the   power  of   the   British    government;    as  he 
feasted  with  the  great  men  of  P:ngland  and  France,  dis- 
coursing with  them  on  li})erty  and  law,  religion   and  art ; 
while  battling  for  the  best  interests  of  art  with  men  who 
could  not  appreciate  his  ability  and  goodness  ;  and  T  saw 
him,  an  old  man,  almost  alone  in  the  world  which  he  had 
helped  to  elevate  by  his  sword,  his  pen,  his  pencil,  and 
the  example  of  a  brilliant  and  useful  life. 


^^■r  i 


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III 


Lee  and  Shepard's  Rooks  of  Travel. 


GERMANY  SEEN  WITHOUT  SPECTACLES-  or  Ran 
i^^^^^^^^^'Ji^^  of  Various  Subjects;  Penned'  &" 
Different  Stand-points  in  the'' Empire      ifyiiKNiu- 

\St  ».uh^'!^^!'"l  '''"-''^  briskly:  ho  chatH  and  «ossi,,s,  HluHliimr  n,,i,t  ..,,,,1 

■^^^YJfe^o  4r^H   OBSERVATIONS  IN   THE  ORIENT 
ifvw.,^..?^f*y^^'^^^^^  ^he  Countries  of  EuroDe 
.<Th  ^  ^Valteu  IlAKKiMAN  («x-(iovcin()r  of  .New  IJa.npsl.irT.)     °1  ■^* 
w  .h  ?m'  '"'^*'"'-' '»  h>H  graphic  description  „f  theno  nacrcd  Icca      ^  fcf  r« 
with  great  aptnens  to  ncencH  and  per^onagen  which  l.i^;t()rv  hiH  i  .  ,  » 

natiual  aud  pleasant  color  of  personality." -  Convonl  Monitor. 

fonr-nl'x!t^?u7on')I''']  -L-"'  ''^''^^^'•'P''""«  of  manners  and  customs, 
loim  a  laige  paitof  this  sinking  narrative  of  a  fourteen-monthH'  voyage! 

VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE.     A  (Jeogn.phical.lonr 
neyof   Twent^;.Hve  Ih.ndre.l  Mile.  Iron.  C^.el.ec  to    I  e      ,    f     f 

Hon«"^;,  ,  ^^^'  ^^^'''"^^■,^'■'•'  »•   '>'-"<"'.     With  n.nneroMs  i  Istr 
Uons  and  mapn  specially  prepared  for  this   work.     Crown   Sv;. 

mivM!r;l!f''^'"''-f"l  "  ^""1 ''"'''  ^'"'"^''  '^'"^  •'"«  «ie«cril,ed  it  with  a  happy 
mixture  of  spirit,  keen  observation,  and  bonhomie y  -  London  GrupDil 

FOUR  MONTHS  m  A  SNEAK-BOX.     A  I?oat-Voyaue  of 
i  wenty-six  Ilnndred  Miles  down  the  Ohio  and  Mississippi  Rivers 
and   along  the   (Jnlf   of    Mexico.      l!y   Nathaniel  H  s,    p" 

AVith  numerous  maps  and  illustrations.    $l.oO 

true  to  !  fr"'/'n'"' ■"^''""■'T  "^  ',«'"»"ty-»"^"t '  'if«  on  the  great  rivers  are 
iL's  y/'m/c/.        ^""^""^^^'"''"  of  P^'-'^ons  and  places  are  graphic." - 

^  ^AMEmrT  r^l^W  WALK  ACROSS  SOUTH 
AMERICA  Over  the  Pampas  and  the  Andes  i!v 
Nathaniel  II.  Hi.„o,..     Crown  .Sv";.    New  Kdkion^Erat'jf. 

"Mr.  IJirihop  made  this  journey  when  a  boy  of  sixteen    has  ii..v,.r  f.,.- 

t^:k  ii^i^^KriiLz/vSm.;?-^'  ^'-^  ^'^^  '^-  -^^  --''^- 

^^^VmnStW?,!^^-^^^^?^.^-      ^^'"•^'   t'>''   Adventures  of   . 
nnl         /     I>"il-H>intmg  in  the  Wost-India  Islands.     I'.y  Kukd    \ 
Obeu.    Crown  Svo.     With  maps  and  illustrations.     !ft->5u 
During  two  yciirs  he  visited  mountains,  forests,  and  neoole  th-it  few 

f  any,    ourists  had  ever  rea.d.ed  before,     lie  carHed  Ls  earner     with 

llul^til'-^^SlS/i'r'"  ""^r"  ^"V^"^««  ^y  wh^^h'T'iook'  s 
iiiuFtiiaitu.    — L,ouisi'ilie  Voitrifr-Joitrnal. 


Sold  by  all  booksellers,  and  sent  by  mail,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price. 

LEE  &,  SHEPARD,  Publishers,  Boston. 


Lee  and  Shepard's  Books  of  Travel. 


I  ^m 


'11  -' 

*  !         1 


LIFE    AT    PUGET    SOUND.     With  skotchcs  of  travel  in  WuHh- 

ington  Tciriloiy,  Hiitinh  Colimiliia,  Ort-Koii,  and  C/Uliforniu.     By 

Cakolinp;  (!.  I-Ki(;nT<)N.     lOiiio.    Clolti.     i?l.f)0. 

"  Your  chiiptiMH  on  l'nj;ii  Sound  liuvc  ctiiirrnt-d  int'.     Kiill  of  life, deeply 

iiUereHtinK,  and  witli  jnsl  Uial  cIuhh  ot  tacts,  and  HUu^e^tionH  of  trulii, 

llial  cannot   fail   to    lielp    the    Indian   and   tlie  (Jliinei^e."  —  Wkndki.i 

l'lllI,I,II'S. 

EUROPEAN  BREEZEIS.  15y  Mahokky  Deane.  Cloth.  (Jill 
top.  $1.;")().  Heiiij;  chaptert*  of  travel  thr(nii;h  (Jermany,  Austria, 
IlnnLtary,  and  Switzerland,  coverinir  placen  not  nKinilly  vinited  l)y 
Americans  in  inal<iiij<  "  'I'he  (.irand  'I'onr  (d'  the  Continent,"  by  tlie 
accoini)lislied  writer  of  "  Ni'wporl  l]reezeH." 
"  A  Very  brisihl,  frenh.and  aniusinu  acconnt,  wliicli  tells  nsaboul  ahost 

of  thinL(tj  we  neviT  lieaid  ol  beloic,  and  is  wortli  two  ordinary  booliij  on 

Unropear)  travel.'"  —  ll'o»(/(/;/'.v  JodviKtl. 

AN  AMERICAN  GIRL,  ABROAD.     Hy  iMiss  Adeline  Tuaf- 

TON,  antiiorof  "  lli«  Inlieriiance,"  "  Ivatlierine  P^arle,"  etc.     lOmo. 

Illustrated.    !«1.:>0. 
"  A  sjiarklinti;  account  ot  a  European  trip  l>y  a  wide-awaive,  iiitellisent, 
and  irrepressible  American  ii\\\.     I'ictured  with  a  freshness  and  vivacity 
that  is  deliifhtfnl." —  I'ticu  Ohxerrer. 

BEATEN  PATHS  ;  or,  A  Woman's  Vacation  in  Europe. 

I>y  KiJ.A   W. 'I'lioMi'soN.     Kimo.     Clotli.     ifl.aU. 
A  lively  and   ciiatty  l)ool\  of  travel,  with  pen-pictures  humorous  and 
gi'apliic,  tliat  are  decidedly  out  of  the  "  l)eatiMi  pallis"  of  desciiplion. 

A  SUMMER   IN  THE  AZORES,  with  a  Glimpse  of  Ma- 
deira.    By  -Miss  C.  Alice  Hakeu.     Kittle  Classic  style.     Cloth, 
(lilt  edires.     ij^l.^;'). 
"Miss  Baker  t;ives  us  a  i)reezy,  entertainiiiijr  descri))tion  of  tliese  ])ic- 
tures(,ue   islands.     Slie  is  an    )l)servint;  tii>\eller.  and   niiUii's  a   i(ra[)hic 
l)icture  of  the  (plaint  people  and  customs."  —  i  'hicat/o  Adnon  c. 

ENGLAND    FROM   A   BACK  WINDOW ;  With  Views 
of  Scotland   and  Ireland.    By  <1.  .\I.  Bailey,  tlie  " 'Dan- 
bury  A'ews'  Man."     12mo.    .-si. ;■)(). 
"  Tiie  peculiar  luimor  of  this  writer  is  well  known.     The  British   Tsle8 
have  never  l)efoi'e  bei-n  looked  at  in  just  the  same  way, — at  least,  notl)y 
any  one  wlio  has  notitied  us  of  the  fact.     Mr.  I>ailey"s  travels  possess, 
accortlinyly,  a  value  of  tlieir  own  for  the   reader,  no  matter  how  many 
previous  lecords  of  journeys  in  the  mother  country  he  may  ha\e  read." 
—  /iiii  /if-st.ci'  KxprcKx. 

OVER  THE  OCEAN;  or,  Sights  and  Scenes  in  Foreign 

Lands.     By  Ciktis  Ci'ild,  editor  of    "The  Boston  Commer- 
cial Bulletin.'"     Crown  Svo.     Cloth,  !?'2.;')0. 

"  Tlie  idmost  that  any  European  tourist  can  hope  to  do  is  to  tell  tlie 
old  story  in  a  somewhat  fri'sli  way,  and  Mr.  (Juild  lias  succeeded  iu 
every  part  of  his  book  in  doinif  this."'  —  IVilhiihliihUi  JidHclht. 

A.BROAD  AGAIN;  or.  Fresh  Forays  in  Foreign  Fields, 

Lniform  with  "Ovvr  tlu'  Ocean."     By  the  sami-  author.     Crown 
Svo.    Cloth,  !?2..'J0. 

•'He  has  tfiveii  us  a  life-picture.  Europe  is  done  in  a  style  thai  must 
aerve  as  an  invalual)le  iiiiide  to  those  who  tj;o  '  over  the  ocean,'  as  well  as 
an  interesting  companion.  '  —  Jlitlifa.fi  Citizen, 


Sold  hij  (ill  booksellt'i-s,  (mil  sent  hij  innil,  poufpaid,  nn  rrreipt  of  price. 

LEE  &  SHEPARD.  Publishers,  Boston. 


TROPHIES  OF  TRAVEL. 


DRIFTING  ROUND  THE  WORLD  ;  A  Boy's  Adven- 
tures by  Sea  and  Land.     i?y  (apt.  ("haki-ks  W.  Ham,, 

author  of  •' Adrift  ill  the  li-i'l-'ifids,"  '•  Tlic  (rrt'at  Moiiaiiza,"  t'tc. 

With  iiuinorous  fuli-paue  and  IftttT-prcssilluDtralioiin.     Roj'al  Svo. 

IlaiKlHomc  covur.     $1.75.     Cloth,     (iilt.     8'J.r>ii. 
"  Out  of  the  lu  iti'ii  track  "  in  its  courHO  of  tiavol,  record  of  adventures 
and  di'Hcriiitions  of  life  ui  (Jreenland,  Laluador,  lieiaiid,  Scotland,   I'liit; 
land,  l<'iaiice,  Holland,  Itusshi,  Asia,  Siberia,  and  Alaska.      Its  hero    is 
youny,  bold,  and  adventurous;  and  the  book  is  in  every  way  inteiesiiim 
and  attractive. 

EDWARD  GREEY'S  JAPANESE  SERIES. 

YOUNG  AMERICANS  IN  JAPAN  ;  or,  The  Adventures 
of  the  Jewett  Family  and  their  Friend  Oto  Nambo. 

With  170  full-pai^e  and  letter-iiress  illustrations,     lloya!  Nvo,  7  x  Iti 
inches.     Handsomely  illuininated  cover.    $1.75.    Cloth,  black  and 
f^cold,  ^'J.oO. 
This  story,  though  essentially  a  work  of  fiction,  is  tilled  with  interest- 
ing'and  truthful  descriptions  of  the  curious  ways  of  living  of  the  f^ood 
people  of  the  land  of  the  risiiit;  sun. 

THE  WONDERFUL  CITY  OF  TOKIO ;  or,  The  Fur- 
ther Adventures  of  the  Jewett  Family  and  their 
Friend   Oto    Nambo-     With  itui  illustrations.    i{oyai  Svo, 

7  X '.t.j  inches.      With  cover  in    icold  and  colors,  designeil  by  tlie 

autlior.     )s<1.7").     ("loth,  black  and  i^old,  if-.^O. 
"  .\  liook  full  of  delightful  information.     The  author  lias   tlu^  li.'ippy 
gift  of  permitting  the  reader  to  view  things  as  he  saw  them.     The  illus- 
trations are  mostly  drawn  by  a  .Japanese  artist,  and  are  very  uni(|iu'.  "  — 
('lii<ii(]t>  llcr<tl(l. 

THE  BEAR  WORSHIPPERS  OF  YEZO  AND  THE 
ISLAND  OF  KARAFUTO;  being  the  further  Ad- 
ventures of  the  Jewett  Family  and  their  Friend 

Oto    Nambo.     1M)  illustrations.     I'.oards.     $1.7.').    < 'loth.  *J.-'iO. 

Graphic  [)eii  and  pencil  ])ietures  of  tlu!  remarkable  beariled  people  who 

live  in  the  north  of   Japan.     The   iilusirations  arc?   by  native  .lapanese 

artists,  and  give  queer  pictures  of  a  queer  people,  who  have  been  seldom 

visited. 

HARRY  W.   FRENCH'S   BOOKS. 

OUR  BOYS  IN  INDIA.  The  wanderimrs  of  two  young  Americans 
in  Iliiidiistaii,  with  their  exciting  adventures  on  the  sacred  rivers 
and  wild  mountains.  With  U-i  illustrations,  lloyal  Svo,  7  x '.i^ 
inclu's.  Hound  in  i-niblematic  covers  of  Oriental  design,  5;1.7'). 
Clotli.  black  and  gold,  S-J. .')(». 
While  it  has  all  the  exciting  interest  of  a  romance,  it  is  remarkably 

vivid  in  its  pictures  of  manners  and  customs  in  the  laud  of  the  lliiidii 

'i'lie  illustrations  are  niauy  and  excellent. 

OUR    BOYS    IN    CHINA.    The  adventures  of  two  young  Ameri 
cans,  wrecked  in  the  China  Sea  on  their  return   from  India,  will 
their  strange  wanderings  through  the  Chinese  Kmpire.     ISS  illus- 
trations.    Hoards,  ornamental  covers  in  colors  and  gold.     .•sil.7o. 
Cloth,  *'2.r)(\ 
This  gives  the  further  adventures  of  "  Our  Boys"  of  India  fame  in  the 

land  pf  Teas  and  tiueues. 


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i! 


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|J:.if 

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i 

ii: 


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II. 


"JUST  AS  THE  TWIG   IS   BENT,  THE  TREE'S   INCLINED." 

LESSONS    ON     MANNERS.      For  home  and   hcIioo!   uho.     A 
Miiiuiiil  by  KniTii  K.  Wi(i(;iN.     Cloth,  50  centn  ;  school  editloti, 
hoardH,  30  coiiIh  net. 
Thin  little  book  )«  being  rapidly  introduced  into  schoolH  as  a  text-bool\. 

SHOWS  WHY  THE  WINDS   BLOW. 

»VHIRLWINDS,  CYCLONES,  AND  TORNADOES.    By 
I'rof.  W.  M.  Davis  of  Harvard  Univerhity.    Illii«trated.     oOcentn. 
The  cyclones  of  onr  great  AVest,  the  whirlwindH  of  the  dcHcrt,  every 
thing  in  the  shape  of  storms,  scientilically  and  popularly  treated. 

"THIS  VOLUME   IS   SUBLIME   POETRY  " 

THE   STARS   AND  THE  Ei*.  RTH ;  or,  Thoughts  upon 

Space,    Time,    and    Eternity.      With  an  Introduction  by 

Thomah  Hill,  J).D.,  LL.l).,  late  I'rehidenl  of  Harvard  Uinversity. 

Cloth.    TH)  cents. 

"It  cannot  but  be  valuable  to  the  student  of  science  as  well  as  to  tlie 

professors  of   religion,  and   tends  to   bring  them  closer  together,  and 

reconcile  tliein."  —  Potter'^  Montlilij. 

KNOW  WHAT  YOU   ARE   DRINKING. 

HANDBOOK    OF  WATER  ANALYSIS.     l?y  Dr.  George 
L.  Austin.     Cloth.     .")0  cents. 
"  It  condenses  into  fifty  i)ages  wliat  one  would  have  to  wander  tlirougli 
n  small  chemical  lil)rary  to  Hud.    We  commend  tLel)ook  as  worthy  of  n 
wide  circulation.' '  —  Indejjendent. 

EVERY  LADY  HER   OWN    FLORIST. 

THE  PARLOR   GARDENER.     A  Treatise  on  the  TTouse-Culture 
of  Ornamental  I'lants.    'I'ranslated  from  the  French,  and  adapted 
to  American   use.     Uy  Coknklia  J.   Uandolph.     With  eleven 
illustrative  cuts.     .'lO  cents. 
It  contains  minute  directions   for  the    "  mantel-piece   garden,"    the 
"  e/f/grer^-garden,"   the   "  flower-stand   garden,"   the   "  portable  green- 
house," the  "house-aquarium,"  the  garden  upon  the  balcony,  the  ter- 
race, and   the  double   window,   besides  describing   many   curious  and 
interesting  experiments  in  g'nfting. 

"HELLC    CENTRAL!" 

THE  TELEPHONE.    An  Account  of  the  Thenomena  of  Electricity, 
Magnetism,  and  Sound,  as  involved  in  its  action,  with  directions  for 
making  a  Hi)eaking-Telei)h()ne.     I?y  Professor  A.  K.  DoLBEAR  of 
Tufts  College.     It'nno.     Illustrated.     Price  fW  cents. 
"An  interesting  little  l)o<)k  ui)on  this  most  fascinating  subject,  which 
Is  treated  in  a  very  clear  and  mclhodical  way.     First  we  have  a  thorough 
review  of  the  discoveries  in  electricity,  then  of  magnetism,  then  of  those 
In  the  study  of  sound,  —  pitch,  velocity,  timbre,  tone,  resonance,  sym- 
pathetic vibrations,  etc.    From  these  the  telephone  is  reached,  and  by 
them  in  a  measure  explained."  —  Hartford  Couranl. 


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A    PRACTICAL    PROOF-READERS    ADVICE. 
HANDBOOK    OF    PUNCTUATION     and  ntho».  rp„„„ 
graphical   Matters.     For  u.t   .fJc'   0/"?..°^^  aTJiS?; 

at  the  I  nnc.r.,ty  Pro.H,  Ca.nbri.lKc  Mass.     1s,,h,.     (Moth     '.0(.  c-ii' 
"  It  1.^  inteiKied  for  the  use  of  authors  an<l  teachers ;  while  biisinens  ...en 
who  have  occasion   to   i.rint  chciiiars,  ativerlis.n.ents    et^c;    ,-       hV,,ll 
Hm,rd_to  be  Without  a  copy  of  it  for  referenee.'--'SA^;:;;^:;;*!;;:;);j 

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THE   DOUGLAS    NOVELS. 

Hy  Miss  Amanda  M.  Doioi.as, 
Uniform    I'o/utnen.  Prio-  $l.')0  eiuh' 

A  WOMAN'S   INHERITANCE. 

'   Lik(!  all  till!  loiiiiiiici'M  of  MIhh  DoiiifliiH,  tliin  kIoij  haw  a  fancinatlon 
aboiil  it  wliicli  ciK-lii.iiiH  tlii'  icadiTV  altciitioii  iiiilil  tlio  end."  —  Jiuiti 
more  A'l'H'x. 

OUT  OP  THE  WRECK;    or,  was  It  a  Victory? 

•'Miii.'lil  and  cntcilaiiiiiiK  a.H  Mii^n  Doiinlan'H  Hloiicw  always  an-,  lliin, 
licr  lu'w  OIK',  li-ads  llifin  \\\\."  —  ytir-JSiil/oril  Stn)i(hir<t, 

FLOYD    GRANDON'S    HONOR. 

"Fa8c!i.atiiig  thr(>iii,'lioiil,aMd  woilhy  uf  tla-  lupiilatiuii  uf  the  author." 
••-  PhUudclphid  MitlioiliKt. 

WHOM    KATHIE    MARRIED. 
Kathic  was  thi"  hrioliK' of  tlu'  iioi)iilai'  Buiies  of    Katliio  Stories  for 
young  people,  tlie  iTadoiH  of  wliicli  wore  very  anxious  to  Iviiow  wilii 
whom  Kalhio  nuttlwl  down  in  life,     llcnce  this  ntoiy,  clianniiigly  wrillon, 

LOST    IN    A    GREAT    CITY. 
"There  i8  the  power  of  dcliiu-atioii  and  rol)U8tiit'HH  of  exprowHioii  tliat 
would  credit  a  iiiasciiliiie  hand  in  the  pieneiit  voliiine,  and  the  reader 
will  at  no  ntage  of  tlie  reading  regret  iiaving  coinineneed  its  |)eruHal.     In 
aome  parts  it  is  pathetic,  even  to  eloquence."  —  Saii  Fraiuimo  Ih.st. 

THE   OLD    WOMAN   WHO   LIVED    IN    A   SHOE 

" 'I'he  roinanees  of  Miss  Douglas's  creation  are  all  tinilllngly  intereHt- 
ing." —  ('itnihriihjf  Tribntu  . 

HOPE   MILLS ;  or.  Between  Friend  and  Sweetheart. 

"Amanda  Douglas  is  one  of  the  favorite  authors  of  American  iiovel- 
readeiM.'*  —  Munt  lustt-r  Mirror. 

FROM    HAND    TO    MOUTH. 
"There  is  real  satisfaction  in  reailing  lliis  book,  fron*  the  fact  that  wo 
can  so  readily  '  take  it  home  '  to  onrselvcis."  —  Portlaud  Argnn. 

NELLY    KINNARD'S    KINGDOM. 
"The  Hartford  Keligious  Herald   "  says,  " 'I'his  story  is  so  fascinating, 
that  one  can  handy  lay  it  down  after  taking  it  iii)." 

IN   TRUST;  or,  Dr.  Bertrand's  Household. 

"She  writes  in  a  free,  f  resli,  and  natural  way;  and  lier  characters  are 
never  overdrawn." —  MKiiclicstt'r  Mirror. 

CLAUDIA. 
"  The  plot  Is  very  dramatic,  and  the  i/i'iioiimott  startling.    Claudia,  the 
heroine,  is  one  of  those  self-sacriticing  cliaracters  which  it  is  the  glory  of 
th?  female  sex  to  produce."  —  Boston  Journal. 

STEPHEN    DANE. 
"  This  Is  one  of  this  autlior's  hap[)iest  and  most  successful  attempts  at 
..)vel-\vriting,  for  wliich  a  grateful  public  will  applaud  her."—  //erald. 

HOME    NOOK  ;  or,  the  Crown  of  Duty. 

"  An  interesting  story  of  Ijome-life.  not  wanting  in  incident,  aud  written 
'.n  forcible  and  attractive  style."  —  JVi'ic-  York  (rriiphic. 

SYDNIE    ADRIANCE ;    or,  Trying  the  World. 

"  The  works  of  Miss  Douglas  have  stood  the  test  of  popular  judgmenl, 
and  become  the  fasliion.  They  are  true,  natural  in  delineation,  i)ui'*  -vid 
elevating  in  their  tone."  —  K>]tre.ss,  Edstoii,  Penn. 

SEVEN    DAUGHTERS. 
I'he  charm  of  the  story  is  the  perfectly  natural  and  home-likt-  ai.  «rv'.ic]b 

jervades  it.  . 

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T.  TH()\VHR||)(;k-S  novkis. 

NEW   UNJFORVI    EDITION. 
FARNELL'S  POLLY. 


"  Ah  a  Nov«'l  of  AriHTlcrin  Sodcty,  tliin  l)„„k  Iiuh  iH.vcr  been  HiirimHHod 
nearly  u,  ntylc  and   w1m.I.;ho,„„  i„    „.,„..     lu  patl.oH  oav     Z-iZri:, 
tearH,  Uh  humor  nlwayH  exciting  nuTiinunt."  ' 

CUDJO'S    CAVE. 

Intc.reHtcdaudin.p.eHHeclmoprotoImllly.  '  '"'''  '*''"""« 't-  ^l 

THE    THREE    SCOUTS. 

THE    DRUMMER    BOY. 
A  Story  of  HiunsideV  J.:x,,e,liii„„.     Ilh.straled  by  F.  O.  ('.  Daiu  ky 

-  WJXS.S"""'  '"''  •"■  ^""  ''*""*'"•     '^  -'"  -"  -Hhunt  „nHhln«^'. 
MARTIN    MERRIVALE:   His   X   Mark 

iJ»^'fi'i£^!;';;:;^Elr;;.:::::';-';i;;!-/  i'"--^'-  "•  "<•..«•  of  the  bo<.k« 


NEIGHBOR    JACKWOOD. 


J^uSSaS.'"'™^^ 


COUPON    BONDS,  and  other  Stories. 

S'^tE,/::...'"''''''''*'"''?-'''':  '"•»^*  ••"''"'»'•  of  Trowbridge'fl 


The  leadi 
short  stories,     j  ne  others  are  vi 
interesting  or  "  highly  amusing 

NEIGHBORS'    WIVES 
22mt..     Cloth.    Pi-ice  per  volume,  fl.50. 


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BUT   A    PHILISTINE. 

•'  Aiiollicr  novel  t)y  tlu'  aullutr  of  '  A  W'fimairH  Won!'  nnd  '  TiCnot 
Diirr,'  will  l)«'  wiirmly  \vflconii'<l  liy  liowtn  of  n-adfiK  of  MIkh  'i'owiiHt'iiil'H 
Hlorli'H.  There  Is  iiothinu  (.f  the  '  HehMatioiiiil,'  or  no-ealled  reallHth', 
Hchool  111  her  writinijrt.  On  the  I'oiitrary,  they  are  noted  for  theli-  iiealthy 
moral  lone  and  pnre  heiithnent,  and  yet  are  not  wantiim  In  HTittlvlNU 
siTUATioN.s  AND  DiiAMATic  isi  \i)E\rs." ~  ( 7iir(tyo  ,/uurnitl. 

LENOX    DARE. 

"  Her  Ktoriiv,  always  sunny  and  halthfnl,  touch  the  s|)riims  of  social 
life,  and  make  the  reader  liettei'  ac  jnainted  with  this  ijreat  hninan  ortraid- 
/ation  of  whieii  we  all  form  a  |iait,  and  ti-nd  to  Inint;  him  into  more  inti- 
mate sympathy  with  what  Im  mo-t  pure  and  nolile  in  oni'  nature.  Amon^ 
the  ln'r.1  of  lu'r  |)rodnetions  we  place  the  volume  liere  under  notice.  In 
temper  and  tone  tliu  volume  is  calculated  to  exert  a  healthful  anJ 
eh  satiny  lulluonce."  —  Nvtr-h'iKjItiiid  Mif/iodist. 

DARYLL   GAP  ;    or.  Whether  it  Paid. 

A  story  of  the  petroleum  <lays,  and  of  a  fandly  wlio  str\ick  oil. 
"  Miss  Townsend  is  a  very  entertainiui;  writer,  and,  while  she  (Miter. 
tains,  at  the  same  time  instruct-i.  Her  plots  an;  well  arranged,  and  iier 
ciiaracters  are  clearly  and  strongly  drawn.  The  presi'ut  voluiiu)  will  not 
detract  from  the  repuUition  sbo  lius  heretofore  enjoyed."  —  Piltahnry 
lii'i-onlcr. 

A  WOMAN'S  WORD.  AND  HOW  SHE  KEPT  IT. 
"The  celelirity  of  Viruinia  F.  Townsend  as  an  authoress,  her  brilliant 
descriptive  powers,  ami  pure,  viu'orou-'  imaniiiation,  will  insure  a  liearty 
welcome  for  the  abovecNititled  volume  in  tlu^  writer's  liajipiest  vein. 
ICvery  woman  will  understand  tlie  seif-sacrilice  of  (Jenevieve  Weir,  and 
will  entertain  only  seorn  for  the  miseralile  man  wlio  imbitleretl  her  life 
to  hide  liis  own  wrontr-doinu." — Faxliion  (JiKirtcr/i/. 

THAT  QUEER  GIRL. 
"  .\  fresii,  wholesome  hook  about  trood  men  and  feood  women,  briijiit 
and  cheery  in  styli-,  and  pure  in  inoraN.  .Int  lb  •  book  to  take  a  yiaini; 
trirl's  fancy,  and  lu'lj)  her  to  s^row  up.  like  Ma.lrline  and  Aryia,  into  tlie 
sweetness  of  real  tjirlliood;  there  bi'iiiL?  moic  of  that  same  sweetiiesH 
und(M' llie  fuss  and  featliers  of  the  lueseiit  day  tiiaii  a  casual  observer 
miyhl  suppone."  —  People''^  Mo)ithhj. 

ONLY  GIRLS. 
"This  volunio  shows  how  two  i)ersons.  '  only  pi  rls,' saved  two  men 
from  crime,  even  from  ruin  of  Ixxly  and  soul;  and  all  this  came  about  in 
their  lives  without  their  purpose  or  knowli'dije  at  the  time,  and  not  at  all 
as  they  or  anybody  tdse  would  lia\e  planned  it;  but  it  comes  about  weli 
and  naturally  enoutfh.  The  story  is  inyenious  and  i;raphic,  and  ke])t  the 
writer  of  this  notice  up  far  iiitt)  the  small  liours  of  yesterday  nioniing." 
—  Wanhington  Vkronkle. 

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JANET.   A   POOR   HEIRESS. 

mM,,|,M'  iiilu..  fatluT  aluMiatCH  her  love,  aii.l  ii.-a.ly  i.iinH  h.T  trmpcr 
;ihe  .noth.-rk,H,w«  iho  latl.rr  in  at  fa.ill,  l.ut  dofH^Mot  .la.v  to  JyHo 
ik'il!.w!f";'.'!  "  l'  7'^*''V,  that  .1...  iH  only  an  mlopU-.l  .lan«ht.-r;  a  for 
Hikinijof  tlu.  H(l  honu-  a  hi.- of  Htian^'o  viclrt«itn(lcH;  aivtnin;  a  mar 
TK'.'rvT''''"."'!'^^'''  •"'*'  '"I'srov.Ty,  that,  affrall.  nh.  in  an  hoi  rJ. 
Ihf  sU)ry  iH  certainly  a  very  aUraciivx-  one."  -  Chicuno  li,hnor. 

THE    DOCTOR'S    DAUGHTER. 

"Sophie  \fay,  anlhor  of  tlie  renowned  I'rndy  and  Dotty  l.nnltH.  hn8 
nehi,.ve,l  anotiier  trinniph  in  tlie  new  l.ool<  with  this  title' innt  IsHiied. 
Mie  iian  taken  '  a  imw  deparln.e '  this  time,  an.l  wrili.  n  a  new  ntory  for 
Krown  np  folkn.  Il  we  are  not  mnrh  ndst.tken,  the  yoin,>;  folks  wiil 
want  to  read  it,  as  inneh  an  tlie  oU!  folks  want  to  read  tL-  l,o^,ks  writ  e 

WeM/ISZ"-  '"  "  ''^'"""''  "'''''  '"  ""  "«-•"- ''^««  -i'-"'- 

THE    A3BURY    TWINS. 

«-,•!,''.!",'  ";",'"":"■'"'!;'"  '>f,''i"f'ther  work  l,y  this  eiiarmini;  and  popular 
wiiler  will  he  heartily  welcomed  l.y  the  pnl.lie.  And  in  lliis  ....sj l.l,. 
fasematniL'  story  of  the  twin-sisters'.  •  X'ie''  and  •  \'an/  th-y  i  av  1  'f  ,•; 
hem  a  Kemm.e  treat.  Vu:  writes  her  story  in  one  ehapl.T,  and  Van  . 
the  next,  and  so  on  thronuh  th..  hook.  Van  is  frank,  holiest;  and  p.aeti! 
uil.  \ic  wild,  venturesome,  and  witty;  and  l.otli  „f  tliem  nalnr.'il  and 
winning.  -M  home  or  ahroa.l,  they  are  true  to  their  indh  idiiality,  and 
-ee  tliinus  Willi  their  own  eyes.  It  is  a  frer-li,  delightful  volume  well 
worthy  ol   Its  gified  author."  -  />V, ./,.,,  Vi^uhihutor.  ^'""'"i.  hlII 


OUR    HELEN. 

"'Olir  TIelen'  is  Soiihie   Mays  latest  ereatioii;   and  she  is  a 

brave  irirl,  that   the  yountc  p-'ople  will  ..11  like      \\\.  are  pleased 

wall  some  old  friends  in  t.'ie  hook.     It  is  a  yood  eomj.ainon.lxx.k 

fvv"-',"  ''•I,  '■""^''"'■'■•''""'  '*^'"  '''"  ^''<'"l''  Uo  totiether.     (Jneer  o 
l' .Neil  still  lives,  to  induliie  in  tlie  reminiseenees  of  the  yonn.' 


hritclit, 

to  meet 

for  the 

Id   Mrs, 

men  of 

ionally 

en  ■  is  a 

and  liic 

,  is  very 

4. 


I' .Neil  still  lives,  to  induliie  in  tlie  reminiseenees  of  the  yonn.' 
Maehi.is;  and  other  (^uinnel.asset  people  with  familiar  nam. "s  o.-.a 
aiipear,  alony  with  new  ones  wlio  ar.'  worth  knowite'  '<»iir  Hel 
noble  and  unselli-.h  triri,  hut  with  a  miixt  and  will  of  lierowir 
contrast  lietween  lier  and  pretty,  fas.inatini,',  sellisli  Jittji.  Sharle'v 
huely  drawn.      Lee  x  Shei)ar.l  puhlisli  it."  _  lloh/ok,  Tni/ncnpi 

QUINNEBASSET  GIRLS. 
'^Tho  story  Is  a  very  att.-a.live  one,  as  free  from  the  sensational  and 
eHl'/rv  :."""''  •'V'."r'-^';  "••"  '"  •"*'  '^'"»-  li"H.  full  of  interS  .ad 
I  iV.  r  n nS-  ^''\r;="'M'  ''"^"t.  <-l'"'-iy  sunshine  that  we  tind  in  tlie  author'^ 
eaila.  X  (  ks  Sli,.  is  to  he  coniiialulated  .)n  the  suc.;ess  of  her  essay  in 
a  m-w  held  ot  .t.-rature,  to  whieh  sh..  will  he  warmly  welcomed  by  th^oB! 
Who  know  and  admire  her  '  J'rudy  Hooks.'  "  ^ 


Sold  by  all  booksellers  <in<l  iwir^dea/n-s,  und  nent  by  mail,  postpaid 

on    ri'ceipt  of  prive. 

LEE  &  SHEPARD,  Publi.shers,  Boston. 


